CINDERELLA
ONCE there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the
proudest and most haughty woman that was ever seen. She had, by a former
husband, two daughters of her own humor, who were, indeed, exactly like
her in all things. He had likewise, by another wife, a young daughter,
but of unparalleled goodness and sweetness of temper, which she took
from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.
No sooner
were the ceremonies of the wedding over but the mother-in-law began to
show herself in her true colors. She could not bear the good qualities
of this pretty girl, and the less because they made her own daughters
appear the more odious. She employed her in the meanest work of the
house: she scoured the dishes, tables, etc., and scrubbed madam’s
chamber, and those of misses, her daughters; she lay up in a sorry
garret, upon a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay in fine rooms,
with floors all inlaid, upon beds of the very newest fashion, and where
they had looking-glasses so large that they might see themselves at
their full length from head to foot.
The poor girl bore all
patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would have rattled her
off; for his wife governed him entirely. When she had done her work, she
used to go into the chimney-corner, and sit down among cinders and
ashes, which made her commonly be called Cinderwench; but the youngest,
who was not so rude and uncivil as the eldest, called her Cinderella.
However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her mean apparel, was a hundred
times handsomer than her sisters, though they were always dressed very
richly.
It happened that the King’s son gave a ball, and invited
all persons of fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited, for
they cut a very grand figure among the quality. They were mightily
delighted at this invitation, and wonderfully busy in choosing out such
gowns, petticoats, and head-clothes as might become them. This was a new
trouble to Cinderella; for it was she who ironed her sisters’ linen,
and plaited their ruffles; they talked all day long of nothing but how
they should be dressed.
“For my part,” said the eldest, “I will wear my red velvet suit with French trimming.”
“And
I,” said the youngest, “shall have my usual petticoat; but then, to
make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered manteau, and my
diamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the
world.”
They sent for the best tire-woman they could get to make up
their head-dresses and adjust their double pinners, and they had their
red brushes and patches from Mademoiselle de la Poche.
Cinderella
was likewise called up to them to be consulted in all these matters, for
she had excellent notions, and advised them always for the best, nay,
and offered her services to dress their heads, which they were very
willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to her:
“Cinderella, would you not be glad to go to the ball?”
“Alas!” said she, “you only jeer me; it is not for such as I am to go thither.”
“Thou art in the right of it,” replied they; “it would make the people laugh to see a Cinderwench at a ball.”
Anyone
but Cinderella would have dressed their heads awry, but she was very
good, and dressed them perfectly well They were almost two days without
eating, so much were they transported with joy. They broke above a dozen
laces in trying to be laced up close, that they might have a fine
slender shape, and they were continually at their looking-glass. At last
the happy day came; they went to Court, and Cinderella followed them
with her eyes as long as she could, and when she had lost sight of them,
she fell a-crying.
Her godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the matter.
“I wish I could–I wish I could–“; she was not able to speak the rest, being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.
This godmother of hers, who was a fairy, said to her, “Thou wishest thou couldst go to the ball; is it not so?”
“Y–es,” cried Cinderella, with a great sigh.
“Well,”
said her godmother, “be but a good girl, and I will contrive that thou
shalt go.” Then she took her into her chamber, and said to her, “Run
into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin.”
Cinderella went
immediately to gather the finest she could get, and brought it to her
godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin could make her go
to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside of it, having left
nothing but the rind; which done, she struck it with her wand, and the
pumpkin was instantly turned into a fine coach, gilded all over with
gold.
She then went to look into her mouse-trap, where she found
six mice, all alive, and ordered Cinderella to lift up a little the
trapdoor, when, giving each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her
wand, the mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which
altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful
mouse-colored dapple-gray. Being at a loss for a coachman,
“I will go and see,” says Cinderella, “if there is never a rat in the rat-trap–we may make a coachman of him.”
“Thou art in the right,” replied her godmother; “go and look.”
Cinderella
brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The
fairy made choice of one of the three which had the largest beard, and,
having touched him with her wand, he was turned into a fat, jolly coach-
man, who had the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld. After that, she
said to her:
“Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the watering-pot, bring them to me.”
She
had no sooner done so but her godmother turned them into six footmen,
who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their liveries all
bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind each other as
if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The Fairy then said to
Cinderella: “Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with;
are you not pleased with it?”
“Oh! yes,” cried she; “but must I go thither as I am, in these nasty rags?”
Her
godmother only just touched her with her wand, and, at the same
instant, her clothes were turned into cloth of gold and silver, all
beset with jewels. This done, she gave her a pair of glass slippers, the
prettiest in the whole world. Being thus decked out, she got up into
her coach; but her godmother, above all things, commanded her not to
stay till after midnight, telling her, at the same time, that if she
stayed one moment longer, the coach would be a pumpkin again, her horses
mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and her clothes become
just as they were before.
She promised her godmother she would not
fail of leaving the ball before midnight; and then away she drives,
scarce able to contain herself for joy. The King’s son who was told that
a great princess, whom nobody knew, was come, ran out to receive her;
he gave her his hand as she alighted out of the coach, and led her into
the ball, among all the company. There was immediately a profound
silence, they left off dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so
attentive was everyone to contemplate the singular beauties of the
unknown new-comer. Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of:
“Ha! how handsome she is! Ha! how handsome she is!”
The
King himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and telling
the Queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful
and lovely a creature.
All the ladies were busied in considering
her clothes and headdress, that they might have some made next day after
the same pattern, provided they could meet with such fine material and
as able hands to make them.
The King’s son conducted her to the
most honorable seat, and afterward took her out to dance with him; she
danced so very gracefully that they all more and more admired her. A
fine collation was served up, whereof the young prince ate not a morsel,
so intently was he busied in gazing on her.
She went and sat down
by her sisters, showing them a thousand civilities, giving them part of
the oranges and citrons which the Prince had presented her with, which
very much surprised them, for they did not know her. While Cinderella
was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven and
three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the company
and hasted away as fast as she could.
When she got home she ran
to seek out her godmother, and, after having thanked her, she said she
could not but heartily wish she might go next day to the ball, because
the King’s son had desired her.
As she was eagerly telling her
godmother whatever had passed at the ball, her two sisters knocked at
the door, which Cinderella ran and opened.
“How long you have
stayed!” cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes and stretching herself as
if she had been just waked out of her sleep; she had not, however, any
manner of inclination to sleep since they went from home.
“If thou
hadst been at the ball,” said one of her sisters, “thou wouldst not
have been tired with it. There came thither the finest princess, the
most beautiful ever was seen with mortal eyes; she showed us a thousand
civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons.”
Cinderella seemed
very indifferent in the matter; indeed, she asked them the name of that
princess; but they told her they did not know it, and that the King’s
son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the world to know
who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied:
“She must,
then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been! Could not I see
her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your yellow suit of clothes
which you wear every day.”
“Ay, to be sure!” cried Miss Charlotte; “lend my clothes to such a dirty Cinderwench as thou art! I should be a fool.”
Cinderella,
indeed, expected well such answer, and was very glad of the refusal;
for she would have been sadly put to it if her sister had lent her what
she asked for jestingly.
The next day the two sisters were at the
ball, and so was Cinderella, but dressed more magnificently than before.
The King’s son was always by her, and never ceased his compliments and
kind speeches to her; to whom all this was so far from being tiresome
that she quite forgot what her godmother had recommended to her; so that
she, at last, counted the clock striking twelve when she took it to be
no more than eleven; she then rose up and fled, as nimble as a deer. The
Prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her
glass slippers, which the Prince took up most carefully. She got home
but quite out of breath, and in her nasty old clothes, having nothing
left her of all her finery but one of the little slippers, fellow to
that she dropped. The guards at the palace gate were asked:
If they had not seen a princess go out.
Who
said: They had seen nobody go out but a young girl, very meanly
dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country wench than a
gentlewoman.
When the two sisters returned from the ball
Cinderella asked them: If they had been well diverted, and if the fine
lady had been there.
They told her: Yes, but that she hurried away
immediately when it struck twelve, and with so much haste that she
dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world,
which the King’s son had taken up; that he had done nothing but look at
her all the time at the ball, and that most certainly he was very much
in love with the beautiful person who owned the glass slipper.
What
they said was very true; for a few days after the King’s son caused it
to be proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry her whose
foot the slipper would just fit. They whom he employed began to try it
upon the princesses, then the duchesses and all the Court, but in vain;
it was brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to
thrust their foot into the slipper, but they could not effect it.
Cinderella, who saw all this, and knew her slipper, said to them,
laughing:
“Let me see if it will not fit me.”
Her sisters
burst out a-laughing, and began to banter her. The gentleman who was
sent to try the slipper looked earnestly at Cinderella, and, finding her
very handsome, said:
It was but just that she should try, and that he had orders to let everyone make trial.
He
obliged Cinderella to sit down, and, putting the slipper to her foot,
he found it went on very easily, and fitted her as if it had been made
of wax. The astonishment her two sisters were in was excessively great,
but still abundantly greater when Cinderella pulled out of her pocket
the other slipper, and put it on her foot. Thereupon, in came her
godmother, who, having touched with her wand Cinderella’s clothes, made
them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had before.
And
now her two sisters found her to be that fine, beautiful lady whom they
had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg pardon
for all the ill- treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderella took
them up, and, as she embraced them, cried:
That she forgave them with all her heart, and desired them always to love her.
She
was conducted to the young prince, dressed as she was; he thought her
more charming than ever, and, a few days after, married her. Cinderella,
who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters lodgings in
the palace.
