The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault 9

The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault 9

Cinderilla 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 service to dress their heads, which they

were very willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to

her:

 

"Cinderilla, would you not be glad to go to the ball?"

 

"Ah!" said she, "you only jeer at 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 Cinder-breech at a ball."

 

Any one but Cinderilla 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 they were transported with joy; they

broke above a dozen of 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

Cinderilla followed them with her eyes as long as she could, and when

she had lost sight of them she fell a-crying.

 

Her godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the

matter.

 

"I wish I could----, I wish I could--;" she was not able to speak the

rest, being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.

 

This godmother of hers, who was a Fairy, said to her:

 

"Thou wishest thou couldest go to the ball, is it not so?"

 

"Y--es," cried Cinderilla, 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."

 

Cinderilla 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, leaving 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 Cinderilla to lift up a little the trap-door,

when giving each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand,

the mouse was at that moment turned into a fair horse, which

altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful

mouse-coloured dapple-grey.

 

Being at a loss for a coachman, "I will go and see," says Cinderilla,

"if there be never a rat in the rat-trap, that we may make a coachman

of him."

 

"Thou art in the right," replied her godmother; "go and look."

 

Cinderilla 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 coachman, 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

it, as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The Fairy then

said to Cinderilla:

 

"Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you

not pleased with it?"

 

"O yes," cried she, "but must I go thither as I am, in these poison

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,[4]

the prettiest in the whole world.

 

[Footnote 4: In Perrault's tale: _pantoufles de verre_. There is no

doubt that in the medieval versions of this ancient tale Cinderilla

was given _pantoufles de vair_--_i.e._, of a grey, or grey and white,

fur, the exact nature of which has been a matter of controversy, but

which was probably a grey squirrel. Long before the seventeenth

century the word _vair_ had passed out of use, except as a heraldic

term, and had ceased to convey any meaning to the people. Thus the

_pantoufles de vair_ of the fairy tale became, in the oral tradition,

the homonymous _pantoufles de verre_, or glass slippers, a delightful

improvement on the earlier version.]

 

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 at the ball one

moment longer, her 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 drove, 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 hall,

among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence, they

left off dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so attentive was

every one to contemplate the singular beauty of this 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 ogling 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 head-dress, that they might have some made

next day after the same pattern, provided they could meet with such

fine materials, and as able hands to make them.

 

The King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and

afterwards 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,

shewing 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 Cinderilla was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock

strike eleven and three quarters, whereupon she immediately made a

curtesy to the company, and hasted away as fast as she could.

 

Being 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 Cinderilla ran and opened.

 

"How long you have stayed," cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes, and

stretching herself as if she had been just awaked 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

shewed us a thousand civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons."

Cinderilla was transported with joy; 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 anxious to learn it, and would give all the world to know

who she was. At this Cinderilla, smiling, replied:

 

"She must then be very beautiful indeed; Lord! how happy have you

been; could not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your

yellow suit of cloaths which you wear every day!"

 

"Ay, to be sure!" cried Miss Charlotte, "lend my cloaths to such a

dirty Cinder-breech as thou art; who's the fool then?"

 

Cinderilla, indeed, expected some 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 Cinderilla,

but dressed more magnificently than before. The King's son was always

by her, and never ceased his compliments and amorous 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, without coach or footmen, and in

her nasty old cloaths, 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 gentle-woman.