Beauty and the Beast

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Once upon a time, in a very far-off country, there lived a merchant who

had been so fortunate in all his undertakings that he was enormously

rich. As he had, however, six sons and six daughters, 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 fire 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 leagues 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,

which stood in the midst of a dark forest, and seemed to be the most

dismal place upon the face of the earth. As they were too poor to have

any servants, 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 youngest

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 called Beauty. 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, 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, Beauty?”

“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. 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 months 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 snow 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. It seemed to the merchant very strange that no snow

had fallen in the avenue, which was entirely composed of orange trees,

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 silence 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, 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.”

“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. 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 promised 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

her folly.

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

father 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. As for you, old man,” he added, turning to the

merchant, “at sunrise to-morrow 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.

“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 them!

“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 dreamed that she was walking by a brook bordered with trees, and

lamenting her sad fate, when a young prince, 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?” said Beauty.

“Only be grateful,” he answered, “and do not trust too much to your

eyes. And, above all, do not desert me until you have saved me from my

cruel misery.”

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 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 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, and 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

on into a gallery of pictures, where she soon found a portrait 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 instrument 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, 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:

“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 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, 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, 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 sing!”

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 pantomime 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. 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 ring 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 ugly.”

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 sisters 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 never come.

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,

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; 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, 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.”

“Can you really love such an ugly creature as I am?” 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! 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 companion:

“Well, Queen, 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 Fairy 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 your wedding?”

And so she did, and the marriage was celebrated the very next day

with the utmost splendor, and Beauty and the Prince lived happily ever

after.(1)

(1) La Belle et la Bete. Par Madame de Villeneuve.