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.
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