Prevod
Nekoč je živel trgovec, ki je imel tri hčere. Starejši dve sta bili kar čedni, tretja pa je bila prava lepotica; njene oči so bile modre kakor nebo, lasje črni kakor ebenovina in lica kakor vrtnice. Trgovec je imel starejši hčeri zelo rad, toda Lepotica mu je bila najljubša.
Dolgo časa jim je življenje prijetno teklo in trgovec je bil bogat in uspešen, nato pa se mu je sreča obrnila. Druga za drugo so njegove ladje izginjale na morju, z njimi pa tudi velik del njegovega premoženja.
Nekega dne je trgovec poklical hčere k sebi in rekel: »Otroci moji, kaže, da bom moral na dolgo pot. Nisem več bogat, vendar bi rad vsaki od vas prinesel darilo, zato mi povejte, kaj si želite.«
Starejši hčeri sta začeli premišljevati o vsem, kar sta si želeli, in vsaka se je bala, da bo druga dobila kaj lepšega od nje.
Naposled je spregovorila najstarejša. »Dragi oče,« je rekla, »želim si, da bi mi prinesel žametno obleko, izvezeno z zlatom, čevlje, ki bi se podali k njej, in pahljačo, s katero bi se lahko hladila.«
»Jaz pa,« je rekla druga, »bi rada biserno ogrlico, bisere za lase in lepo zapestnico.« Trgovca je zaskrbelo, ker sta hčeri prosili za tako drage reči, vendar jima ni hotel odreči. »In ti, Lepotica,« je rekel in se obrnil k najmlajši hčeri, »kaj si želiš?«
»Dragi oče,« je rekla, »toliko si mi že dal, da si ničesar več ne želim; če pa mi že kaj prineseš, naj bo to vrtnica.«
Ko sta starejši sestri to slišali, sta se zelo razjezili. Mislili sta, da je Lepotica prosila samo za vrtnico zato, da bi ju osramotila pred očetom in mu pokazala, kako je manj sebična od njiju. Toda Lepotici kaj takega niti na misel ni prišlo.
Trgovec se je nasmehnil najmlajši hčeri in jo trikrat poljubil, starejši hčeri pa je poljubil le po enkrat. Nato je zajahal konja in odjezdil.
Potoval je več dni in nazadnje prispel v mesto, kamor je bil namenjen. Tam je izvedel, da je izgubil še več premoženja, kakor je mislil. Zdaj je bil reven človek. Vseeno mu je uspelo kupiti darila, za katera sta ga prosili starejši hčeri, nato pa se je s težkim srcem odpravil proti domu.
Vendar ni prišel daleč, ko ga je zajela nevihta in se je izgubil v globokem gozdu. Jezdil je sem in tja ter skušal najti pot iz njega, ko je nenadoma prišel na jaso in pred seboj zagledal veličasten grad.
Trgovec je osupnil. Nikoli še ni slišal, da bi v tem gozdu stal tak grad. Prijezdil je do vrat in potrkal v upanju, da bo našel zavetje za čez noč.
Komaj je potrkal, so se velika vrata pred njim odprla. Vstopil je in se ozrl naokrog; nikjer ni bilo nikogar, vse je bilo tiho. Začuden je hodil iz sobe v sobo. Vse je bilo razkošno in lepo urejeno, vendar nikjer ni bilo žive duše. Nazadnje je prišel v sobo, kjer je bila pripravljena večerja. Vsi krožniki so bili zlati, sadje in mesne jedi pa so bile najredkejše in najokusnejše vrste.
Trgovec je bil tako lačen, da je sedel za mizo, in takoj so mu nevidne roke postregle z jedjo, iz skrite sobe v bližini pa je zazvenela nežna glasba.
Dodobra se je najedel, nato pa vstal in šel iskat prostor za spanje. Kmalu ga je našel. V veliki spalnici ga je čakala pripravljena postelja. Slekel se je, legel in nemoteno spal do jutra.
Ko se je zbudil, je ugotovil, da so njegova od poti umazana oblačila izginila. Namesto njih so mu pripravili lepo obleko in druge potrebščine, vse nadvse razkošne. Tam je bila tudi mošnja, polna zlatnikov. Še bolj začuden je trgovec vstal, se oblekel in odšel na vrtove, da bi si jih ogledal. Tam je bilo vse lepše kakor na katerem koli vrtu, ki ga je kdaj videl. Po njih so se vile stezice, žuboreli so vodnjaki, raslo je sadno drevje in cvetoče rastline.
Ob enem od vodnjakov je rasel grm, ves prekrit z vrtnicami. Pogled nanje je trgovca spomnil na Lepotičino željo in pomislil je, da ne bo nič hudega, če utrga eno in ji jo odnese. Izbral je največjo in najlepšo vrtnico. Toda komaj jo je utrgal, je zrak napolnilo grmenje, tla pod njegovimi nogami so se zamajala in pred njim se je pojavila strašna zver.
»Nesrečnik!« je zavpila Zver. »Kaj si storil? Ponujeno ti je bilo vse najboljše, kar premore grad. Zakaj si poškodoval moj rožni grm, ki mi je ljubši od vsega na svetu? Za to boš moral umreti.«
Trgovec se je silno prestrašil. »O, draga, dobra Zver, nikar me ne ubij!« je vzkliknil. »Nisem hotel storiti nič slabega. Samo pusti me oditi in nikoli več te ne bom nadlegoval.«
»Ne, ne,« je odgovorila Zver. »Tako zlahka se ne boš izmuznil. Poškodoval si moj rožni grm in za to moraš trpeti.« Trgovec pa je še naprej prosil in rotil, naj mu prizanese, dokler se ga Zver naposled ni usmilila. »Če ti prihranim življenje,« je rekla, »kaj mi boš dal v zameno?«
»Gorje,« je rekel trgovec, »kaj ti sploh lahko dam? Izgubil sem vse premoženje in zdaj sem reven človek. Na svetu mi ni ostalo nič drugega kakor moje tri hčere.«
»Daj mi eno svojih hčera za ženo in s tem bom zadovoljna,« je rekla Zver. Trgovec se je ob tej misli zgrozil. Rad bi odklonil, a se je bal, da ga bo Zver v hipu raztrgala, če to stori.
»Tri mesece ti dam, da premisliš,« je rekla Zver. »Toda obljubiti mi moraš, da se boš po tem času vrnil sem in mi bodisi pripeljal eno svojih hčera bodisi prišel pripravljen na smrt.«
Trgovec je moral obljubiti; druge izbire ni imel. Takoj ko je dal obljubo, je Zver izginila in lahko je odšel, kar je tudi nemudoma storil.
Jezdil je proti domu in srce mu je bilo težko. Ni si mogel predstavljati, kako bi lahko dal eno svojih hčera za nevesto ostudni zveri, vendar tudi umreti ni hotel.
Hčere so ga veselo sprejele in starejši sestri sta bili navdušeni, ko sta zagledali lepa darila, ki jima jih je prinesel. Le Lepotica je opazila njegov žalostni, potrti obraz.
»Dragi oče,« je rekla, »zakaj si zaskrbljen? Se ti je zgodilo kaj hudega?« Sprva ji oče ni hotel povedati, vendar ga je tako dolgo prosila in rotila, naj ji pove, da nazadnje ni mogel več molčati. Hčeram je povedal vse o gradu in o tem, kar se mu je tam pripetilo, o Zveri in o tem, da bo moral izgubiti življenje, če se nobena od njih ne bo hotela poročiti z njo.
Ko sta starejši hčeri to slišali, bi skoraj omedleli. Niti zato, da bi rešili očetovo življenje, se ne bi mogli poročiti s takim bitjem.
»Dragi oče,« je rekla Lepotica, »ne boš umrl. Jaz bom Zverina nevesta.« »Da, da,« sta vzkliknili sestri. »Tako je edino prav. Če Lepotica ne bi prosila za vrtnico, se ta nesreča sploh ne bi zgodila.«
Trgovec sprva ni hotel privoliti. Lepotica mu je bila najljubša izmed vseh hčera. Upal je, da bo, če se že mora katera poročiti z Zverjo, to ena od starejših sester. Toda onidve o tem nista hoteli niti slišati, in ko se je trgovec po treh mesecih odpravil nazaj v grad, je vzel Lepotico s seboj.
Jezdila sta in jezdila, čez čas prispela do gozda, potem pa trgovec ni potreboval dolgo, da je našel grad. Potrkal je na vrata in odprla so se kakor prej. Z Lepotico sta hodila iz sobe v sobo in vse je bilo tako veličastno, da je morala občudovati, kar je videla. Nazadnje sta prišla v jedilnico, kjer ju je čakala okusna pojedina. Sedla sta in jedla, okoli njiju pa je zvenela nežna glasba. Lepotica je začela razmišljati, da gospodar vsega tega vendarle ne more biti tako strašno bitje.
Toda komaj sta povečerjala, se je pred njima pojavila Zver, in ko jo je Lepotica zagledala, se je začela tresti in drgetati, saj je bila videti še strašnejša, kakor jo je opisal oče.
»Ne boj se me, Lepotica,« je rekla z blagim glasom. »Nič žalega ti ne bom storila. Tvoj oče te je pripeljal sem in res je, da moraš tu ostati, vendar se ti ni treba poročiti z menoj, če tega sama ne želiš.«
»Nočem se poročiti s teboj, Zver, in to moraš vedeti,« je rekla Lepotica. »Toda bojim se, da boš škodovala mojemu očetu, če se ne poročim s teboj.« »Ne, Lepotica, nič mu ne bom storila. V miru lahko odide, morda pa me boš, ko boš nekaj časa živela tu, dovolj vzljubila, da se boš hotela poročiti z menoj.«
Lepotica temu ni verjela, toda Zver je govorila tako blago, da se je ni več bala. Ko je prišel čas, da oče odide, se je poslovila od njega in ga ni žalostila z jokom.
Odtlej je Lepotica živela v Zverinem gradu in bila zadovoljna. Vsak dan je odšla na vrtove in Zver je prišla ter se nekaj časa igrala z njo, tako da jo je Lepotica zelo vzljubila. Vsak dan, preden jo je zapustila, je vprašala: »Lepotica, ali se hočeš poročiti z menoj?«
Toda Lepotica je vselej odgovorila: »Ne, draga Zver, nočem se poročiti s teboj.« Tedaj je Zver globoko vzdihnila in odšla. Nekega dne je Lepotica sedela pred velikim ogledalom v svoji sobi in bila žalostna, ker že tako dolgo ni videla očeta.
»Želim si,« je rekla, »da bi lahko videla, kaj moj dragi oče počne prav ta hip.« Ob teh besedah je dvignila pogled k ogledalu. Kako je bila presenečena, ko je v njem zagledala odsev sobe, povsem drugačne od tiste, v kateri je sedela! V ogledalu je videla sobo iz svojega doma. V njej je zagledala očeta in sestri. Videla je, kako se smehljajo in premikajo, in lahko je natančno razločila, kaj počnejo. Ugotovila je, da jih lahko opazuje v ogledalu, kolikor dolgo hoče in kadar koli si zaželi.
Odtlej je Lepotica pogosto sedla pred ogledalo in samo zaželeti si je morala, pa je lahko videla svoj dom in vse, kar se je v njem dogajalo.
Nekega dne pa je, ko je sedla pred ogledalo, videla, da je oče bolan. Ležal je v postelji, tako bled in slaboten, da se je Lepotica prestrašila. Skočila je pokonci in stekla na vrt ter klicala Zver.
Ta se je takoj pojavila pred njo. »Kaj je?« je zaskrbljeno vprašala. »Kaj te je prestrašilo, Lepotica?« »Gorje,« je vzkliknila, »moj oče je bolan. O, draga, dobra Zver, prosim, pusti me k njemu in za vselej te bom imela rada.«
Zver se je zresnila. »Prav, Lepotica,« je rekla, »pustila te bom oditi, saj ti ne morem ničesar odreči. Toda obljubi mi, da se boš čez teden dni vrnila, kajti če se ne boš, me bo doletela velika nesreča.«
Lepotica je to prav rada obljubila. Zver ji je nato dala prstan z velikim rubinom. »Ko boš nocoj legla v posteljo,« je rekla, »obrni rubin proti dlani in si zaželi, da bi bila v očetovi hiši, pa se boš zjutraj znašla tam. Ko se boš hotela vrniti, stori enako in spet se boš znašla v gradu. In ne pozabi: vrniti se moraš čez natanko teden dni, do ure natančno, sicer mi boš povzročila trpljenje.«
Lepotica je storila, kakor ji je naročila Zver. Tisti večer je, ko je legla, obrnila rubin na prstanu proti dlani in si zaželela, da bi bila v očetovi hiši. Kako se je razveselila, ko se je naslednje jutro zbudila v svoji postelji doma! Vstala je in stekla v očetovo sobo. Trgovec je bil tako vesel, da jo vidi, da se mu je od tiste ure zdravje začelo izboljševati in je bil čez nekaj dni spet povsem zdrav.
Lepotičini sestri sta jo zasuli z vprašanji o gradu, kjer je živela, in ko sta slišali, kako razkošen je in kako srečna je tam, ju je prevzela zavist. »Lepotica vedno dobi vse najboljše,« sta govorili druga drugi. »Mlajša je od naju obeh, pa poglej, kako razkošno živi; veliko bolje kot midve.« Nato sta skupaj skovali načrt, kako bi Lepotici preprečili, da se ob koncu tedna vrne v grad. »Če jo le pripraviva do tega, da prelomi obljubo, ki jo je dala Zveri,« sta rekli, »se bo ta morda tako razjezila nanjo, da jo bo odgnala in namesto nje vzela eno od naju v svoj grad.«
Dan pred Lepotičino vrnitvijo k Zveri sta v čašo, iz katere je pila, vsuli uspavalni prašek. Komaj ga je Lepotica pogoltnila, je postala zelo zaspana. Veke so ji bile težke kakor svinec in kmalu je utonila v globok spanec, iz katerega se ni zbudila dva dni in dve noči. Ob koncu tega časa je imela sanje in v njih se je sprehajala po grajskih vrtovih. Prišla je do rožnega grma ob vodnjaku in tam je na tleh ležala uboga Zver, skoraj mrtva. Odprla je oči in jo žalostno pogledala. »Ah, Lepotica, Lepotica,« je rekla, »zakaj si prelomila obljubo, da se boš vrnila čez teden dni? Poglej, kakšno trpljenje si mi povzročila.«
Lepotica se je zbudila v bridkem joku. »Gorje, gorje!« je vzkliknila. »Takoj moram nazaj. Čutim, da se je Zveri zgodilo nekaj hudega in da sem za to kriva jaz, čeprav ne vem, kako.« Ni namreč vedela, da je prespala dva dni in dve noči.
Obrnila je prstan z rubinom proti dlani in si zaželela, da bi bila spet v gradu, nato pa legla in zaspala.
Ko se je zbudila, je bila spet v gradu in bilo je zgodaj zjutraj. Stekla je na vrt in naravnost k rožnemu grmu. Tam je kakor v sanjah zagledala Zver, iztegnjeno na tleh, in zdelo se je, da v njej ni več ne življenja ne diha. Lepotica je pokleknila na tla in si položila njeno glavo v naročje. Solze so ji tekle po licih in padale na Zver, in zdelo se ji je, da niti očeta nima tako rada kakor njo. »O, Zver — draga, draga Zver,« je vzkliknila, »ali me ne slišiš? Ali si res, čisto zares mrtva?«
Tedaj je Zver odprla oči in jo pogledala. »Ah, Lepotica,« je rekla, »mislila sem, da si me zapustila. Ali me še vedno nimaš dovolj rada, da bi se poročila z menoj?«
»O, pa te imam! Dovolj te ljubim in z veseljem bom tvoja nevesta,« je vzkliknila Lepotica. Komaj je to izrekla, se je grobi, kosmati kožuh Zveri razprl in pred njo je stal čeden mlad princ, ves oblečen v bel saten in srebro. Lepotica ga je začudeno gledala. »Da, res boš moja ljuba nevesta,« je vzkliknil princ, »saj si ti in samo ti razbila urok, ki me je držal v oblasti.«
Nato je princ, ki ni bil več Zver, Lepotici povedal, da ga je hudobna vila spremenila v zver in da se urok ne bi razblinil, dokler ga ne bi lepa mlada deklica tako vzljubila, da bi hotela postati njegova nevesta. Toda Lepotica ga je kljub grdemu videzu vzljubila zaradi njegove prijaznosti in dobrote, zato hudobna vila nikoli več ni mogla imeti oblasti nad njim.
Zdaj pa so se po vsem gradu zaslišali živahni glasovi in hitenje sem ter tja. Isti urok, ki je princa spremenil v Zver, je namreč vse njegove ljudi naredil nevidne, zdaj pa so bili tudi oni rešeni čarov.
Kako srečna je bila tedaj Lepotica! Če je ljubila Zver, je čednega mladega princa ljubila tisočkrat bolj. Pripravili so veliko svatovsko pojedino in poslali po njenega očeta in sestri. Oče je dobil častno mesto, s sestrama pa je bilo povsem drugače: zaradi njunih trdih src so ju spremenili v dva kipa, ki sta stala vsak na svoji strani vhoda.
Toda Lepotica je bila preblaga, da bi jima kaj zamerila. Po poroki je pogosto stopila h kipoma in se pogovarjala z njima. Njene solze so padale nanju, tako da sta se čez čas njuni trdi srci omehčali in kamen se je spet spremenil v živo meso. Potem so bili vsi skupaj zelo srečni. Sestri sta se poročili z dvema plemičema z dvora.
Ljubezni med Lepotico in princem pa ni bilo para. Živela sta srečno skupaj do konca svojih dni in nikoli več ju ni doletelo nič hudega.
Izvirnik
There was once a merchant who had three daughters. The two older ones were handsome enough, but the third was a beauty, and no mistake; her eyes were as blue as the sky, her hair was as black as ebony, and her cheeks were like roses. The merchant loved his two older daughters dearly, but this Beauty was the darling of his heart.
Things went along pleasantly for a long time, and the merchant was rich and prosperous, but then things began to go wrong with him. One after another of his ships was lost at sea, and a great part of his fortune with them.
One day the merchant called his daughters to him and said, “My children, I find it will be necessary for me to go on a long journey. I am no longer a rich man, but I wish to bring home a gift to each one of you, so tell me what you would like to have.”
Then the two older daughters began to think of all the things they wanted, and each was afraid the other would get something finer than she did.
At last the eldest spoke, “Dear father,” said she, “I wish you would bring me a velvet robe embroidered with gold, and shoes to match, and a fan to wave in my hand.”
“And I,” said the second, “would like a necklace of pearls, and pearls for my hair, and a fine bracelet.”
The merchant was troubled that his daughters should ask for such costly things, but he did not like to refuse them. “And you, Beauty,” said he, turning to his youngest daughter, “what will you have?”
“Dear father,” said she, “you have given me so much that I have nothing left to wish for; but if you bring me anything at all let it be a rose.”
When her older sisters heard this they were very angry. They thought that Beauty had asked only for a rose so that she might shame them before their father, and make him think she was more unselfish than they were. But Beauty had had no such thought as that.
The merchant smiled at his youngest daughter and kissed her thrice, but his older daughters he kissed only once. Then he mounted his horse and rode away.
He journeyed on for several days, and at last he reached the city he was bound for. Here he found he had lost even more of his fortune than he had thought. He was now a poor man. Still he managed to buy the gifts his two older daughters had asked for, and then with a sad heart he set out for home.
He had not journeyed far, however, when he was overtaken by a storm and lost himself in a deep forest. He rode this way and that, trying to find the way out, and then suddenly he came to an open place, and there he saw before him a magnificent castle.
The merchant was amazed. He had never heard of such a castle in that forest. He rode up to the door and knocked, hoping to find shelter for the night.
Scarcely had he knocked when the great door swung open before him. He entered and looked about, no one was there; everything was silent. Wondering he went on into one room after another. Everything was very magnificent and well arranged, but nowhere was a soul to be seen. At last he came to a room where a supper was set out. The plates were all of gold, and the fruits and meats were of the rarest and most delicious kinds.
The merchant was so hungry that he sat down at the table, and at once the food was served to him by invisible hands, while soft music sounded from a hidden room beyond.
He ate heartily and then arose and went in search of a place to sleep. This he soon found. A bed had been made ready in a large chamber, and here he undressed and lying down he slept until morning without being disturbed.
When he awoke he found his own travel-stained clothes had been taken away. In their place a handsome suit had been laid out, and other necessary things, all of the richest kind. There was also a bag filled with gold pieces. Wondering still more, the merchant arose and dressed and went out into the gardens to look about him. Here everything was more beautiful than any garden he had ever seen before. There were winding paths and fountains, and fruit-trees and flowering plants.
Beside one of the fountains was a rose-bush covered with the roses. The sight of these roses reminded the merchant of Beauty’s wish, and he thought it would be no harm to break off one to carry to her. He chose the largest and finest rose. Scarcely had he plucked it, however, when the air was filled with a sound of thunder, the ground rocked under his feet, and a terrible looking beast appeared before him.
“Miserable man!” cried the Beast, “what have you done? All the best in the castle was offered to you. Why have you broken my rose-bush that is dearer to me than anything in the world? Now for this you must surely die.”
The merchant was terrified. “Oh, dear, good Beast do not kill me!” he cried. “I meant no harm. Only let me go, and I will never trouble you again.”
“No, no,” answered the Beast. “You shall not escape so easily. You have broken my rose-bush and you must suffer for it.”
Still the merchant begged and entreated to be spared and at last the Beast had pity on him. “If I spare your life,” said he, “what will you give me in return for it?”
“Alas,” said the merchant, “what can I give you? I have lost all my fortune and I am now a poor man. I have nothing left in the world but my three daughters.”
“Give me one of your daughters for a wife and I will be satisfied,” said the Beast.
The merchant was horrified at the thought of such a thing. He would have refused, but he feared that if he did so the Beast would tear him to pieces at once.
“You may have three months in which to think it over,” said the Beast. “But you must promise me that at the end of that time you will return here and either bring me one of your daughters or come prepared to die.”
The merchant was obliged to promise this; he could not help himself. As soon as he had promised the Beast disappeared and the man was free to go, and this he was not slow to do.
He rode on toward his home and his heart was heavy within him. He did not see how he could possibly give one of his daughters to be the bride of a hideous beast and yet he did not wish to die.
His daughters met him with joy, and the two older sisters were delighted when they saw the beautiful gifts he had brought them. Only Beauty noticed his sad and downcast looks.
“Dear father,” said she, “why are you troubled? Has something unfortunate happened to you?”
At first her father would not tell her, but she urged and entreated him to tell her until finally he could keep silence no longer. He told his daughters all about the castle and his adventure there and of the Beast, and of how unless one of them would consent to marry the Beast he would have to lose his life.
When the older daughters heard this they were ready to faint. Not even to save their father’s life could they consent to marry such a creature.
“Dear father,” said Beauty, “you shall not die. I will be the Beast’s bride.”
“Yes, yes,” cried her sisters. “That is only right. If Beauty had not asked for the rose this misfortune would not have happened.”
To this the merchant would not at first agree. Beauty was the dearest to him of all his daughters. He had hoped that if any of them was to marry the Beast it might be one of the older sisters. But they would not hear of this and when, at the end of three months, the merchant set out to return to the castle he took Beauty with him.
They rode along and rode along and after awhile they came to the forest, and then it did not take the merchant long to find the castle. He knocked at the door, and it opened as before, and he and Beauty went in through one room after another, and everything was so magnificent that she could not but admire it. At last they came to the supper-room, and here a delicious feast was set out for them. They sat down and ate while soft music sounded around them. Beauty began to think the master of all this could not be such a terrible creature after all.
But scarcely had they finished their supper before the Beast appeared before them, and when Beauty saw him she began to shake and tremble, for he was even more dreadful looking than her father had said.
“Do not fear me, Beauty,” he said in a gentle voice. “I will do you no harm. Your father has brought you here, and it is true that here you must stay, but you need not marry me unless you are quite willing to.”
“I do not wish to marry you, Beast, and you must know that,” said Beauty. “But I fear that if I do not you may harm my father.”
“No, Beauty, I will not harm him. He may go in peace, and perhaps after you have been here awhile you may learn to like me enough to marry me.”
Beauty did not believe this, but the Beast spoke so gently that she no longer feared him and when the time came for her father to go she bade him good-by and did not grieve him by weeping.
After that Beauty lived there in the Beast’s castle and was well content. Every day she went out into the gardens, and the Beast came and played with her for awhile, and she grew very fond of him. Every day before he left her he said, “Beauty, are you willing to marry me?”
But always Beauty answered, “No, dear Beast, I do not wish to marry you.”
Then the Beast would sigh heavily and go away.
One day Beauty was sitting before a large mirror in her room, and she was sad because she had not seen her father for so long.
“I wish,” said she, “that I could see what my dear father is doing at this moment.”
As she said this she raised her eyes to the mirror. What was her surprise to see in it the reflection of a room quite different from the one she was in. It was a room in her own home that she saw reflected there. She saw in it the images of her father and sisters. She could see them smile and move, and she could tell exactly what they were doing. She found she could watch them in the mirror for as long as she pleased and whenever she pleased.
After this Beauty often came to sit before the mirror, and she had only to wish it and she could see her home, and all that was going on there.
But one day when she sat down before the glass she saw that her father was ill. He lay upon his bed so pale and weak that Beauty was terrified. She jumped up and ran out into the garden calling for the Beast.
At once he appeared before her. “What is it?” asked the Beast anxiously. “What has frightened you, Beauty?”
“Alas,” she cried, “my father is ill. Oh, dear, kind Beast let me go to him I pray, and I will love you for ever after.”
The Beast looked very grave. “Very well, Beauty,” he said, “I will let you go, for I can refuse you nothing. But promise me you will return at the end of a week, for if you do not some great misfortune will happen to me.”
Beauty was very willing to promise this. The Beast then gave her a ring set with a large ruby. “When you go to bed to-night,” he said, “turn the ruby in toward the palm of your hand and wish you were in your father’s house, and in the morning you will find you are there. When you are ready to return do the same thing, and you will find yourself back in the castle again. And do not forget that by the end of a week, to an hour, you must return or you will bring suffering upon me.”
Beauty did as the Beast told her. That night when she lay down she turned the ruby of the ring in toward the palm of her hand and wished she were in her father’s house, and what was her joy, when she awakened the next morning, to find herself in her own bed at home. She arose and ran to her father’s room, and the merchant was so delighted to see her that from that hour he began to get better, and in a few days he was as well as ever again.
Beauty’s sisters asked her a great many questions about the castle where she lived, and when they heard how fine it was, and how happy she was there, they were filled with envy. “Beauty always gets the best of everything,” they said to each other. “She is younger than either of us, and see how finely she lives; much better than we do.” They then planned together as to how they could keep Beauty from going back to the castle at the end of the week. “If we can only make her break her promise to the Beast,” said they, “he might be so angry with her that he would send her away and take one of us to live at his castle instead.”
The day before Beauty was to return to the Beast they put a sleeping-powder in the goblet that she drank from.
As soon as Beauty had swallowed this powder she became very sleepy. Her eyelids weighed like lead, and presently she fell into a deep slumber, and she did not awaken for two days and nights. At the end of that time Beauty had a dream, and in her dream she walked in the castle gardens. She came to the rose-bush beside the fountain, and there lay the poor Beast stretched out on the ground, and he was almost dead. He opened his eyes and looked at her sadly. “Ah, Beauty, Beauty,” he said, “why did you break your promise to return at the end of a week? See what suffering you have brought on me.”
Beauty awoke, sobbing bitterly. “Alas, alas!” she cried. “I must go at once. I feel some harm has come to the Beast, and that it is my fault, though how I do not know.” For she did not know she had been asleep for two days and nights.
She turned the ruby ring with the ruby toward the palm of her hand, and wished herself back in the castle and then lay down and went to sleep.
When she awoke she was in the castle again, and it was early morning. She ran out into the garden, and straight to the rose-bush. There, as in her dream, she saw the Beast stretched out on the ground, and he seemed to be without life or breath. Beauty threw herself down on the ground and took his head in her lap, and her tears ran down and fell upon him, and it seemed to her she did not love even her father as dearly as she loved the Beast. “Oh, Beast—dear, dear Beast,” she cried, “can you not hear me? Are you quite, quite dead?”
Then the Beast opened his eyes and looked at her. “Ah, Beauty,” he said, “I thought you had deserted me. Do you not yet love me enough to marry me?”
“Oh, I do! I do love you enough, and gladly will I be your bride,” cried Beauty.
No sooner had she said this than the rough furry hide of the Beast fell apart, and a handsome young prince all dressed in white satin and silver stood before her. Beauty looked at him wondering. “Yes, you shall indeed be my own dear bride,” cried the Prince, “for you and you alone have broken the enchantment that held me.”
Then the Prince, a Beast no longer, told Beauty that a wicked fairy had changed him into the shape of a Beast, and not until a fair young maiden would love him enough to be his bride would the enchantment be broken. But Beauty had loved him for his kindness and goodness in spite of his ugly form, and now never again could the wicked fairy have any power over him.
And now all through the castle was heard a sound of life and of voices and of running to and fro. For the same enchantment that had changed the Prince to a Beast had made all his people invisible, and now, they too were freed from the spell.
Then how happy Beauty was. If she had loved the Beast she loved the handsome young Prince a thousand times better. A grand wedding feast was prepared, and her father and sisters were sent for. Her father was given the place of honor, but it was quite different with her sisters; because of their hard hearts they were changed into two statues and they stood one on either side of the doorway.
But Beauty was too gentle to bear them any ill-will. After she was married she often used to go and stand beside the statues and talk to them, and her tears fell upon them so that after awhile their hard hearts grew soft and the stone melted back to flesh again. Then they were all very happy together. The two sisters were married to two noblemen of the court.
As for Beauty and the Prince, nothing could equal their love for each other, and they lived together happy forever after, and no further harm ever came to them.
