Beauty and the Beast
ONCE upon a time, in a very far-off country, there lived a merchant1 who had been so fortunate
in all his undertakings that he was enormously rich. As he had, however, six sons and six daughters,2 he found that his money was not too much to let them all have everything
they fancied, as they were accustomed to do.
But one day a most unexpected misfortune
befell them. Their house
caught fire3 and was speedily burnt to the ground, with
all the splendid furniture, the books, pictures, gold, silver, and precious
goods it contained; and this was only the beginning of their troubles.
Their father, who had until this moment prospered in all ways, suddenly
lost every ship he had upon the sea, either by dint of pirates, shipwreck,
or fire. Then he heard that his clerks in distant countries, whom he trusted
entirely, had proved unfaithful; and at last from great wealth he fell
into the direst poverty.
All that he had left was a little house in
a desolate place at least a hundred
leagues4 from the town in which he had lived, and to this
he was forced to retreat with his children, who were in despair at the
idea of leading such a different life. Indeed, the daughters at first
hoped that their friends, who had been so numerous while they were rich,
would insist on their staying in their houses now they no longer possessed
one. But they soon found that they were left alone, and that their former
friends even attributed their misfortunes to their own extravagance, and
showed no intention of offering them any help. So nothing was left for
them but to take their departure to the cottage,5 which stood in the midst of a dark forest,6 and seemed to be the most dismal place upon the face of the earth.
As they were too poor to have
any servants,7 the girls
had to work hard, like peasants, and the sons, for their part, cultivated
the fields to earn their living. Roughly clothed, and living in the simplest
way, the girls regretted unceasingly the luxuries and amusements of their
former life; only the youngest8 tried to be brave and cheerful. She had been as sad as anyone when misfortune
overtook her father, but, soon recovering 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 try 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 doleful as themselves, they declared that this miserable life was
all she was fit for. But she was really far prettier and cleverer than
they were; indeed, she was so lovely that she was always
After two years, when they were all beginning
to get used to their new life, something happened to disturb their tranquillity.
Their father 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 at once thought that their poverty was at an end, and wanted
to set out directly for the town; but their father, who was more prudent,
begged them to wait a little, and, though it was harvest
time,10 and he could ill be spared, determined to go himself
first, to make inquiries. Only the youngest daughter had any doubt but
that they would soon again be as rich as they were before, or at least
rich enough to live comfortably in some town where they would find amusement
and gay companions once more. So they all loaded their father with commissions
for jewels and dresses which it would have taken a fortune to buy; only
Beauty, feeling sure that it was of no use, did not ask for anything.
Her father, noticing her silence, said: "And what shall I bring for you,
"The only thing I wish for is to see you
come home safely," she answered.
But this only vexed her sisters, who fancied
she was blaming them for having asked for such costly things. Her father,
however, was pleased, but as he thought that at her age she certainly
ought to like pretty presents, he told her to choose something.
"Well, dear father," she said, "as you insist
upon it, I beg that you will bring me a rose.11 I have not seen one since we came here, and I love them so much."
So the merchant set out and reached the town
as quickly as possible, but only to find that his former companions, believing
him to be dead, had divided between them the goods which the ship had
brought; and after six
months12 of trouble and expense he found himself as poor
as when he started, having been able to recover only just enough to pay
the cost of his journey. To make matters worse, he was obliged to leave
the town in the most terrible weather, so that by the time he was within
a few leagues 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
was so anxious to be at his journey's end that he resolved to go on; but
night overtook him, and the deep snow13 and bitter frost made it impossible for his horse to carry him any further.
Not a house was to be seen; the only shelter he could get was the hollow
trunk of a great tree, and there he crouched all the night which seemed
to him the longest he had ever known. In spite of his weariness the howling
of the wolves kept him awake, and even when at last the day broke he was
not much better off, for the falling snow had covered up every path, and
he did not know which way to turn.
At length he made out some sort of track,
and though at the beginning it was so rough and slippery that he fell
down more than once, it presently became easier, and led him into an avenue
of trees which ended in a splendid castle.14 It seemed to the merchant very strange that no snow had fallen in the
avenue, which was entirely composed of orange
trees,15 covered with flowers and fruit. When he reached
the first court of the castle he saw before him a flight of agate steps,
and went up them, 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 whom he
could ask to give him something to eat. Deep silence16 reigned everywhere, and at last, tired of roaming through empty rooms
and galleries, he stopped in a room smaller than the rest, where a clear
fire was burning and a couch was drawn up closely to it. Thinking that
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 his extreme hunger wakened him after
several hours, he was still alone; but a little table, upon which was
a good dinner, had been drawn up close to him, and, as he had eaten nothing
for twenty-four hours, he lost no time in beginning his meal, hoping that
he might soon have an opportunity of thanking his considerate entertainer,
whoever it might be. But no one 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 prepared upon
the little table at his elbow. Being naturally timid, the silence began
to terrify him, and he resolved to search once more through all the rooms;
but it was of no use. Not even a servant was to be seen; there was no
sign of life in the palace! He began to wonder what he should do, and
to amuse himself by pretending that all the treasures he saw were his
own, and considering how he would divide them among his children. Then
he went down into the garden, and though it was winter everywhere else,
here the sun shone, and the birds sang, and the flowers bloomed, and the
air was soft and sweet. The merchant, in ecstacies with all he saw and
heard, said to himself:
"All this must be meant for me. I will go
this minute 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 or smelt
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,17 which seemed
to be very angry and said, in a terrible voice:
"Who told you that you might gather my roses?
Was it not enough that I allowed you to be 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
these furious words, dropped the fatal rose, and, throwing himself on
his knees, cried: "Pardon me, noble sir. I am truly grateful to you for
your hospitality, which was so magnificent that I could not imagine that
you would be offended by my taking such a little thing as a rose." But
the Beast's anger was not lessened by this 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
could only know what danger her rose has brought me into!"
And in despair he began to tell the Beast
all his misfortunes, and the reason of his journey, not forgetting to
mention Beauty's request.
"A king's ransom would hardly have procured
all that my other daughters asked." he said: "but I thought that I might
at least take Beauty her rose. I beg you to forgive me, for you see I
meant no harm."
The Beast considered for a moment, and then
he said, in a less furious tone:
"I will forgive you on one condition -- that
is, that you will give
me one of your daughters."18
"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?"
"No excuse would be necessary," answered
the Beast. "If she comes at all she
must come willingly.19 On no other condition will I have
her. See if any one of them is courageous enough, and loves you well 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 either of your daughters
will come back with you and stay here, to let you go free. If neither
of them is willing, you must come alone, after bidding them good-by for
ever, 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, though
he did not really think any of his daughters could be persuaded to come.
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 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 which was drawn up before a blazing fire. But he was
too terrified to eat, and only tasted a few of the dishes, for fear the
Beast should be angry if he did not obey his orders. When he had finished
he heard a great noise in the next room, which he knew meant that the
Beast was coming. As he could do nothing to escape his visit, the only
thing that remained was to seem as little afraid as possible; so when
the Beast appeared and asked roughly if he had supped well, the merchant
answered humbly that he had, thanks to his host's kindness. Then the Beast
warned him to remember their agreement, and to prepare his daughter exactly
for what she had to expect.
"Do not get up to-morrow," he added, "until
you see the sun and hear a golden bell ring. Then you will find your breakfast
waiting for you here, 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 hence. Farewell. Take a rose to Beauty, and remember your promise!"
The merchant was only too glad when the Beast
went away, and though he could not sleep for sadness, he lay down until
the sun rose. Then, after a hasty breakfast, he went to gather Beauty's
rose, and mounted his horse, which carried him off so swiftly that in
an instant he had lost sight of the palace, and he was still wrapped in
gloomy thoughts when it stopped before the door of the cottage.
His sons and daughters, who had been very
uneasy at his long absence, rushed to meet him, eager to know the result
of his journey, which, seeing him mounted upon a splendid horse and wrapped
in a rich mantle, they supposed to be favorable. 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;
you little know what it has cost."
But this excited their curiosity so greatly
that 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 this terrible castle, and began to make plans for killing the Beast
if it should come to fetch him. But he reminded them that he
had promised20 to go back.
Then the girls were very angry with Beauty, and said it was all her fault,
and that if she had asked for something sensible this would never have
happened, and complained bitterly that they should have to suffer for
Poor Beauty, much distressed, said to them:
"I have, indeed, caused this misfortune,
but I assure you I did it innocently. Who could
have guessed that to ask for a rose in the middle of summer would cause
so much misery? But as I did the mischief it is only just that I should
suffer for it. I will therefore go back with my father21 to keep his promise."
At first nobody would hear of this arrangement,
and her father and brothers, who loved her dearly, declared that nothing
should make them let her go; but Beauty was firm. As the time drew near
she divided all her little possessions between her sisters, and said good-by
to everything she loved, and when the fatal day came she encouraged and
cheered her father as they mounted together 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 to her at the end of it. Her father still
tried to persuade her to go back, but in vain. While they were talking
the night fell, and then, to their great surprise, wonderful colored lights
began to shine in all directions, and splendid fireworks
blazed out before them; all the forest was illuminated by them, and even
felt pleasantly warm, though it had been bitterly cold before. This lasted
until they reached the avenue of orange trees, where were statues holding
flaming torches, and when they got nearer to the palace they saw that
it was illuminated from the roof to the 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 could not help admiring all the
wonderful things she saw.
The horse stopped at the foot of the flight
of steps leading to the terrace, and when they had dismounted her father
led her to the little room he had been in before, where they found a splendid
fire burning, and the table daintily spread with a delicious supper.
The merchant knew that this was meant for
them, and Beauty, who was rather 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 really
appeared, though she trembled at the sight of him, she made a great effort
to hide her terror, and saluted him 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 goes away?"
Beauty answered bravely that she was quite
prepared to stay.
"I am pleased with you," said the Beast. "As you have come
of your own accord, you may stay.22 As for you, old man,"
he added, turning to the merchant, "at sunrise tomorrow you will 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; but remember
that you must never expect to see my palace again."
Then turning to Beauty, he said:
"Take your father into the next room, and
help him to choose everything you think your brothers and sisters would
like to have. You will find two traveling-trunks there; fill them as full
as you can. It is only just that you should send them something very precious
as a remembrance of yourself."
Then he went away, after saying, "Good-by,
Beauty; good-by, old man"; and though Beauty was beginning to think with
great dismay of her father's departure, she was afraid to disobey the
Beast's orders; and they went into the next room, which had shelves and
cupboards all round it. They were greatly surprised at the riches it contained.
There were splendid dresses fit for a queen, with all the ornaments that
were to be worn with them; and when Beauty opened the cupboards she was
quite dazzled by the gorgeous jewels that lay in heaps upon every shelf.
After choosing a vast quantity, which she divided between her sisters
-- for she had made a heap of the wonderful dresses for each of them --
she opened the last chest, which was full of gold.23
"I think, father," she said, "that, as the
gold will be more useful to you, we had better take out the other things
again, 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 at once; and then the trunks were
not too full, but they were so heavy that an elephant could not have carried
"The Beast was mocking us," cried the merchant;
"he must have 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 that he meant to deceive us. All we can do is to fasten
them up and leave them ready."
So they did this and returned to the little
room, where, to their astonishment, they found breakfast ready. The merchant
ate his with a good appetite, as the Beast's generosity made him believe
that 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 for the second time, and warned them that the
time had come for them to part. 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 was forced to bid Beauty a hasty farewell; and as soon
as he was mounted he went off at such a pace that she lost sight of him
in an instant.
Then Beauty began to cry, and wandered sadly
back to her own room. But she soon found that she was very sleepy, and
as she had nothing better to do she lay down and instantly fell asleep.
And then she dreamed24 that she was walking by a brook25 bordered with trees, and lamenting her sad fate, when a young prince,26 handsomer 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 you will be rewarded for all you have suffered elsewhere. Your every
wish shall be gratified. Only try to find me out, no matter how I may
be disguised, as 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?"
"Only be grateful," he answered, "and do not trust too much to your eyes.27 And, above all, do not desert me until you have saved me from my cruel
After this she thought 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, for you are destined to a better fate. Only do not let
yourself be deceived by appearances."
Beauty found her dreams so interesting that
she was in no hurry to awake, but presently the clock roused her by calling
her name softly twelve times, and then she got up and found her dressing-table
set out with everything she could possibly want; and when her toilet was
finished she found dinner was waiting in the room next to hers. But dinner
does not take very long when you are all by yourself, and very 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
"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 to appearances? I don't understand it. But, after all,
it was only a dream, so why should I trouble myself about it? I had better
go and find something to do to amuse myself."
So she got up and began to explore some of
the many rooms of the palace.
The first she entered was lined
with mirrors,28 and Beauty
saw herself reflected on every side, and thought she had never seen such
a charming room. Then a bracelet29 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 on into a gallery of pictures,
where she soon found a portrait30 of the same handsome Prince, as large as life, and so well painted that
as she studied it he seemed to smile kindly at her. Tearing herself away
from the portrait at last, she passed through into a room which contained
every musical instrument31 under the sun, and here she amused herself for a long while in trying
some of them, and singing until she was tired. The next room was
a library,32 and she saw
everything she had ever wanted to read, as well as everything she had
read, and it seemed to her that a whole lifetime would not be enough to
even read the names of the books, there were so many. By this time it
was growing dusk, and wax candles in diamond and ruby candlesticks were
beginning to light themselves in every room.
Beauty found her supper served just at the
time she preferred 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.
But presently she heard the Beast coming,
and wondered tremblingly if he meant to eat her up now.
However, as he did not seem at all ferocious,
and only said gruffly:
"Good-evening, Beauty," she answered cheerfully
and managed to conceal her terror. Then the Beast asked her 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. And after
about an hour's talk Beauty began to think that the Beast was not nearly
so terrible as she had supposed at first. Then he got up to leave her,
and said in his gruff voice:
you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?"33
"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,"
And she answered, "Good-night, Beast," very
glad to find that her refusal had not provoked him. And after he was gone
she was very soon in bed and asleep, and dreaming of her unknown Prince.
She thought he came and said to her:
"Ah, Beauty! why are you so unkind to me?
I fear I am fated to be unhappy for many a long day still."
And then her dreams changed, but the charming
Prince figured in them all; and when morning came her first thought was
to look at the portrait, and see if it was really like him, and she found
that it certainly was.
This morning she decided to amuse
herself in the garden,34 for the sun shone, and all the fountains were playing; but she was astonished
to find that every place was familiar to her, and presently she came to
the brook where the myrtle trees were growing where she had first met
the Prince in her dream, and that made her think more than ever that he
must be kept a prisoner by the Beast. When she was tired she went back
to the palace, and found a new room full of materials for every kind of
work -- ribbons to make into bows, and silks to work into flowers. Then
there was an aviary full of rare birds,35 which were so tame that they flew to Beauty as soon as they saw her, and
perched upon her shoulders and her head.
"Pretty little creatures," she said, "how
I wish that your cage was nearer to my room, that I might often hear you
So saying she opened a door, and found, to
her delight, that it led into her own room, though she had thought it
was quite the other side of the palace.
There were more birds in a room farther
on, parrots and cockatoos that could talk, and they greeted Beauty by
name; indeed, she found them so entertaining that she took one or two
back to her room, and they talked to her while she was at supper; after
which the Beast paid her his usual visit, and asked her the same questions
as before, and then with a gruff "good-night" he took his departure, and
Beauty went to bed to dream of her mysterious Prince.
The days passed swiftly in different amusements,
and after a while Beauty found out another strange thing in the palace,
which often pleased her when she was tired of being alone. There was one
room which she had not noticed particularly; it was empty, except that
under each of the windows stood a very comfortable chair; and the first
time she had looked out of the window it had seemed to her that a black
curtain prevented her from seeing anything outside. But the second time
she went into the room, happening to be tired, she sat down in one of
the chairs, when instantly the curtain was rolled aside, and a most amusing pantomime36 was acted before
her; there were dances, and colored lights, and music, and pretty dresses,
and it was all so gay that Beauty was in ecstacies. After that she tried
the other seven windows in turn, and there was some new and surprising
entertainment to be seen from each of them, so that Beauty never could
feel lonely any more. Every evening after supper the Beast came to see
her, and always before saying good-night asked her in his terrible voice:
"Beauty, will you marry me?"
And it seemed to Beauty, now she understood
him better, that when she said, "No, Beast," he went away quite sad. But
her happy dreams of the handsome young Prince soon made her forget the
poor Beast, and the only thing that at all disturbed her was to be constantly
told to distrust appearances, to let her heart guide her, and not her
eyes, and many other equally perplexing things, which, consider as she
would, she could not understand.
So everything went on for a long time, until
at last, happy as she was, Beauty began to long for the sight of her father
and her brothers and sisters; and one night, seeing her look very sad,
the Beast asked her what was the matter. Beauty
had quite ceased to be afraid of him.37 Now she knew that
he was really gentle in spite of his ferocious looks and his dreadful
voice. So she answered that she was longing to see her home once more.
Upon hearing this the Beast seemed sadly distressed, and cried miserably.
"Ah! Beauty, have you the heart to desert
an unhappy Beast like this? What more do you want to make you happy? Is
it because you hate me that you want to escape?"
"No, dear Beast," answered Beauty softly,
"I do not hate you, and I should be very sorry never to see you any more,
but I long to see my father again. Only let me go for two months, and
I promise to come back to you and stay for the rest of my life."
The Beast, who had been sighing dolefully
while she spoke, now replied:
"I cannot refuse you anything you ask, even
though it should cost me my life. Take the four boxes you will find in
the room next to your own, and fill them with everything you wish to take
with you. But remember your promise and come back when the two months
are over, or you may have cause to repent it, for if you do not come in
good time you will find your faithful Beast dead. You will not need any
chariot to bring you back. Only say good-by to all your brothers and sisters
the night before you come away, and when you have gone to bed turn
this ring38 round upon
your finger and say firmly: 'I wish to go back to my palace and see my
Beast again.' Good-night, Beauty. Fear nothing, sleep peacefully, and
before long you shall see your father once more."
As soon as Beauty was alone she hastened
to fill the boxes with all the rare and precious things she saw about
her, and only when she was tired of heaping things into them did they
seem to be full.
Then she went to bed, but could hardly sleep
for joy. And when at last she did begin to dream of her beloved Prince
she was grieved to see him stretched upon a grassy bank, sad and weary,
and hardly like himself.
"What is the matter?" she cried.
He looked at her reproachfully, and said:
"How can you ask me, cruel one? Are you not
leaving me to my death perhaps?"
"Ah! don't be so sorrowful," cried Beauty;
"I am only going to assure my father that I am safe and happy. I have
promised the Beast faithfully that I will come back, and he would die
of grief if I did not keep my word!"
"What would that matter to you?" said the
Prince "Surely you would not care?"
"Indeed, I should be ungrateful if I did
not care for such a kind Beast," cried Beauty indignantly. "I would die
to save him from pain. I assure you it is not his fault that he is so
Just then a strange sound woke her -- someone
was speaking not very far away; and opening her eyes she found herself
in a room she had never seen before, which was certainly not nearly so
splendid as those she was used to in the Beast's palace. Where could she
be? She got up and dressed hastily, and then saw that the boxes she had
packed the night before were all in the room.
While she was wondering by what magic the
Beast had transported them and herself to this strange place she suddenly
heard her father's voice, and rushed out and greeted him joyfully. Her
brothers and sisters were all astonished at her appearance, as they had
never expected to see her again, and there was no end to the questions
they asked her. She had also much to hear about what had happened to them
while she was away, and of her father's journey home. But when they heard
that she had only come to be with them for a short time, and then must
go back to the Beast's palace for ever, they lamented loudly. Then Beauty
asked her father what he thought could be the meaning of her strange dreams,
and why the Prince constantly begged her not to trust to appearances.
After much consideration, he answered: "You tell me yourself that the
Beast, frightful as he is, loves you dearly, and deserves your love and
gratitude for his gentleness and kindness; I think the Prince must mean
you to understand that you ought to reward him by doing as he wishes you
to, in spite of his ugliness."
Beauty could not help seeing that this seemed
very probable; still, when she thought of her dear Prince who was so handsome,
she did not feel at all inclined to marry the Beast. At any rate, for
two months she need not decide, but could enjoy herself with her sisters.
But though they were rich now, and lived in town again, and had plenty
of acquaintances, Beauty found that nothing amused her very much; and
she often thought of the palace, where she was so happy, especially as
at home she never once dreamed of her dear Prince, and she felt quite
sad without him.
Then her sisters39 seemed to have got quite used to being without her, and even found her
rather in the way, so she would not have been sorry when the two months
were over but for her father and brothers, who begged her to stay, and
seemed so grieved at the thought of her departure that she had not the
courage to say good-by to them. Every day when she got up she meant to
say it at night, and when night came she put it off again, until at last
she had a dismal dream which helped her to make up her mind. She thought
she was wandering in a lonely path in the palace gardens, when she heard
groans which seemed to come from some bushes hiding the entrance of a
cave, and running quickly to see what could be the matter, she found the
Beast stretched out upon his side, apparently dying. He reproached her
faintly with being the cause of his distress, and at the same moment a
stately lady appeared, and said very gravely:
"Ah! Beauty, you are only just in time to
save his life. See what happens when people do not keep their promises!
If you had delayed one day more, you would have found him dead."
Beauty was so terrified by this dream that
the next morning she announced her intention of going back at once, and
that very night she said good-by to her father and all her brothers and
sisters, and as soon as she was in bed she turned her ring round upon
her finger, and said firmly, "I wish to go back to my palace and see my
Beast again," as she had been told to do.
Then she fell asleep instantly, and only
woke up to hear the clock saying "Beauty, Beauty" twelve times in its
musical voice, which told her at once that she was really in the palace
once more. Everything was just as before, and her birds were so glad to
see her! But Beauty thought she had never known such a long day, for she
was so anxious to see the Beast again that she felt as if suppertime would
But when it did come and no Beast appeared
she was really frightened; so, after listening and waiting for a long
time, she ran down into the garden to search for him. Up and down the
paths and avenues ran poor Beauty, calling him in vain, for no one answered,
and not a trace of him could she find; until at last, quite tired, she
stopped for a minute's rest, and saw that she was standing opposite the
shady path she had seen in her dream. She rushed down it, and, sure enough, there was the cave,40 and in it lay the Beast -- asleep, as Beauty thought. Quite glad to have
found him, she ran up and stroked his head, but, to her horror, he did
not move or open his eyes.
"Oh! he is dead;41 and it is all my fault," said Beauty, crying bitterly.
But then, looking at him again, she fancied
he still breathed, and, hastily fetching
some water from the nearest fountain, she sprinkled it over his face,42 and, to her great delight, he began to revive.
"Oh! Beast, how you frightened me!" she cried.
"I never knew how much I loved you until just now, when I feared I was
too late to save your life."
you really love such an ugly creature as I am?"43 said
the Beast faintly. "Ah! Beauty, you only came just in time. I was dying
because I thought you had forgotten your promise. But go back now and
rest, I shall see you again by and by."
Beauty, who had half expected that he would
be angry with her, was reassured by his gentle voice, and went back to
the palace, where supper was awaiting her; and afterward the Beast came
in as usual, and talked about the time she had spent with her father,
asking if she had enjoyed herself, and if they had all been very glad
to see her.
Beauty answered politely, and quite enjoyed
telling him all that had happened to her. And when at last the time came
for him to go, and he asked, as he had so often asked before, "Beauty,
will you marry me?"
She answered softly, "Yes, dear Beast."
As she spoke a blaze of light sprang up before
the windows of the palace; fireworks crackled and guns banged, and across
the avenue of orange trees, in letters all made of
fire-flies, was written: "Long live the Prince and his Bride."
Turning to ask the Beast what it could all
mean, Beauty found that he had disappeared, and in
his place stood her long-loved Prince!44 At the same moment
the wheels of a chariot were heard upon the terrace, and two ladies entered
the room. One of them Beauty recognized as the stately lady she had seen
in her dreams; the other was also so grand and queenly that Beauty hardly
knew which to greet first.
But the one she already knew said to her
"Well, Queen,45 this is Beauty, who has had the courage to rescue your son from the terrible
enchantment. They love one another, and only your consent to their marriage
is wanting to make them perfectly happy."
"I consent with all my heart," cried the
Queen. "How can I ever thank you enough, charming girl, for having restored
my dear son to his natural form?"
And then she tenderly embraced Beauty and
the Prince, who had meanwhile been greeting the Fairy46 and receiving her congratulations.
"Now," said the Fairy to Beauty, "I suppose
you would like me to send for all your brothers and sisters to dance at
And so she did, and the marriage
was celebrated47 the very next day with the utmost splendor,
and Beauty and the Prince lived happily ever after.
by Madame de Villeneuve
Note: The version of the story which I have annotated comes from
Andrew Lang's Blue Fairy Book (1889). He attributes his version
to de Villeneuve, but his version is actually an interesting mesh of de
Beaumont and de Villeneuve. Read more about the versions on the History
of Beauty and the Beast page.
Lang, Andrew, ed. "Beauty and the Beast." The Blue Fairy Book. New York: Dover, 1965. (Original published
Amazon.com: Buy the book in paperback.