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.
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.”
“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.
“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.
THE
END
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