Prevod
Nekoč sta živela kralj in kraljica, ki nista imela otrok, čeprav sta bila poročena že mnogo let. Nazadnje pa se jima je le rodila hčerkica in po vsem kraljestvu je zavladalo veliko veselje.
Ko je napočil čas za krst male princeske, so pripravili veličastno gostijo, šest mogočnih vil pa so povabili, naj ji bodo botre. Žal je kraljica pozabila povabiti sedmo vilo, ki je bila najmogočnejša med vsemi, obenem pa tudi zelo hudobna in zlobna.
Na dan krsta je šest dobrih vil prispelo že zgodaj, v kočijah, ki so jih vlekli metulji, golobi, stržki ali druge ptice. Kralj in kraljica sta jih prijazno sprejela in jih po kratkem pogovoru odpeljala v dvorano, kjer je bila pripravljena gostija. Vse je bilo nadvse razkošno. Na mizah so bili slastno sadje, meso, pecivo, divjačina in vse, kar si je bilo mogoče zamisliti. Vse posodje je bilo zlato, za vsako vilo pa je bil pripravljen kelih, izrezan iz enega samega dragega kamna. Eden je bil iz diamanta, drugi iz safirja, tretji iz rubina, četrti iz smaragda, peti iz ametista in šesti iz topaza. Vile so bile navdušene nad vso to lepoto. Niti v svojih vilinskih palačah niso imele takšnih kelihov, kakršne je kralj dal izdelati zanje.
Ravno so hotele sesti za mizo, ko se je zunaj na terasi zaslišal strašen hrup. Kraljica je pogledala skozi okno in ob prizoru skoraj omedlela. Prispela je hudobna vila. Prišla je nepovabljena in kraljica je slutila, da njen prihod ne obeta nič dobrega. Njena kočija je bila iz črnega železa, vlekli pa so jo štirje zmaji z ognjenimi očmi in medeninastimi luskami. Vila je naglo skočila iz kočije in s palico v roki prikorakala v dvorano, udarjajoč po tleh.
»Kaj naj to pomeni? Kaj naj to pomeni?« je zavpila kraljici. »Vse moje sestre ste povabili, naj pridejo in obdarijo princesko, samo name ste pozabili.«
Kraljica ni vedela, kaj naj odgovori. Bilo jo je strah. Vendar je skušala svoj strah prikriti in je sedmo vilo sprejela prav tako prijazno kakor druge. Pripravili so ji prostor na kraljevi desnici, kralj in kraljica pa sta se trudila dajati vtis, da sta njen prihod pričakovala. Toda zanjo ni bilo dragocenega keliha, in ko je zagledala tiste, ki jih je dobilo preostalih šest vil, ji je obraz od zavisti pozelenel, oči pa so ji zabliskale kakor ogenj. Jedla je in pila, a ni spregovorila niti besede.
Po gostiji so v dvorano prinesli malo princesko. Tako ljubko se je smehljala in bila videti tako nedolžna, da bi ji le hudobno srce lahko želelo kaj slabega.
Prva vila je vzela otroka v naročje in rekla: »Princeski bom podarila zadovoljstvo, kajti zadovoljstvo je dragocenejše od zlata.«
»Vendar tudi zlato ni slabo,« je rekla druga vila, »zato ji bom jaz podarila bogastvo.« »Jaz ji bom podarila zdravje,« je rekla tretja, »kajti brez njega je bogastvo kaj malo vredno.«
»Jaz pa,« je rekla četrta, »ji bom podarila lepoto, s katero bo osvojila vsa srca.« »In duhovitost, s katero bo očarala vsakogar, ki jo bo poslušal,« je rekla peta. »To bo moj dar.«
Šesta vila je za trenutek omahovala in tedaj je hudobna vila stopila naprej. Medtem ko so druge govorile, se je od zlobe napihovala kakor krastača. »Jaz pa pravim,« je zavpila, »da se bo v sedemnajstem letu z vretenom zbodla v prst in mrtva obležala.«
Ko je kraljica to slišala, je glasno zakričala, kralj pa je postal bled kakor smrt. Toda šesta vila je stopila naprej. »Počakajte malo,« je rekla. »Jaz še nisem spregovorila. Ne morem razveljaviti tega, kar je storila naša sestra, toda pravim, da princeska ne bo zares umrla. Pogreznila se bo v globok spanec, ki bo trajal sto let, in vsi na gradu bodo spali z njo. Ko bo ta čas minil, jo bo prebudil poljub.«
Ko je hudobna vila to slišala, jo je popadel bes, vendar je svojo besedo že izrekla in ničesar več ni mogla storiti. Planila je iz gradu in skočila v kočijo, zmaji pa so jo odnesli. Kam je odšla, ni nihče vedel in nikomur ni bilo mar.
Tudi druge vile so odšle, žalostne zaradi tega, kar je čakalo princesko. Kralj pa je nemudoma ukazal uničiti vse kolovrate in vsa vretena v deželi. Ko je bilo to opravljeno, je bil spet povsem srečen. Če ni bilo več nobenega vretena, se princeska pač ni mogla zbosti z njim; in če se ni zbodla v prst, ni mogla utoniti v začarani spanec.
Tako sta kralj in kraljica brezskrbno živela in sedemnajst let je bilo na gradu vse lepo in prav. Vse, kar so vile obljubile princeski, se je uresničilo. Bila je tako lepa, da so se ji čudili vsi, ki so jo videli, in tako duhovita ter blagega srca, da so jo vsi ljubili. Poleg tega je bila zdrava, bogata in zadovoljna ter nasmejana in vesela od jutra do večera.
Nekega dne sta se kralj in kraljica odpravila na pot, princeska pa si je vtepla v glavo, da se bo povzpela na visok stolp, kjer še nikoli ni bila, in od tam oprezala za njuno vrnitvijo.
Našla je stopnice, ki so vodile v stolp, in se začela vzpenjati, više in više in više, dokler ni bila visoko nad grajskimi strehami. Nazadnje je prispela na sam vrh stolpa, kjer so bila železna vrata z zarjavelim ključem v ključavnici.
Princeska je obrnila ključ in vrata so se odprla. Za njimi je zagledala sobo, v kateri je ob kolovratu sedela zelo, zelo stara, zgubana ženica in predla. Princeska še nikoli ni videla kolovrata. Zdel se ji je nenavaden. Vstopila je in stopila k starki, da bi si ga bolje ogledala.
»Kaj pa delate?« je vprašala. »Predem,« je odgovorila starka. »In kaj je tista drobna stvar, ki se tako hitro vrti?« »To je vreteno.«
»Kako nenavadna stvarca,« je rekla princeska in iztegnila roko, da bi se je dotaknila. Tedaj jo je konica vretena zbodla v prst. Princeska je v hipu vzdihnila, oči so se ji zaprle in zgrudila se je na ležišče ter globoko zaspala.
V istem trenutku je tišina legla tudi na vse druge na gradu. Kralj in kraljica sta se pravkar vrnila s poti; razjahala sta in stopila v grad, in ravno tedaj ju je premagal spanec. Zaspali so tudi dvorjani, ki so šli za njima. Spali so psi in konji na dvorišču ter golobi na napuščih. Zaspal je fant, ki je v kuhinji obračal raženj, in kuharica ga ni oštela, saj je spala tudi sama. Meso se ni prismodilo, kajti ogenj je spal. Celo muhe na gradu in čebele med cvetlicami so negibno obstale. Vse je spalo.
Tedaj je okoli gradu zrasel začaran gozd in ga obdal kakor zid. Gozd je postal tako temen in visok, da nazadnje ni bilo več mogoče videti niti najvišjega grajskega stolpa.
Čeprav je princeska spala, pa ni bila pozabljena. Prihajali so številni pogumni princi in junaki ter se skušali prebiti skozi gozd, da bi jo rešili. Toda veje in vejice so bile trde kakor železo, povrhu pa so zrasle nazaj takoj, ko so jih odsekali; tudi prepletale so se tako tesno, da se nihče ni mogel splaziti med njimi. Leta so minevala in pogumni junaki, ki so iskali princesko, so se postarali in dobili svoje otroke. Tudi ti so odrasli v može in se poročili, nazadnje pa so vsi pozabili na princesko ali pa so se je spominjali le še iz stare pripovedi.
Naposled je minilo sto let in mimo je prišel mlad in čeden princ. Bil je na lovu in je jezdil tako hitro in vneto, da je svoje lovce pustil daleč za seboj. Zdaj mu je bilo vroče in bil je utrujen, zato se je ustavil pri koči, ki jo je zagledal, in prosil za požirek vode.
Mož, ki je živel v koči, je bil zelo star. Prinesel je vodo, za katero je princ prosil, in ko se je ta odžejal, je še malo posedel in se razgledoval naokoli. »Kaj je tista temna gmota, podobna oblaku, ki jo vidim tam daleč?« je vprašal.
»Tega vam ne morem z gotovostjo povedati,« je rekel starec, »saj je zelo daleč in si je nikoli nisem šel ogledat. Toda moj ded mi je nekoč povedal, da je to začaran gozd. Rekel je, da globoko v njem stoji skrit grad in da v tem gradu spi princeska. Ta princeska je bila, tako je pravil, najlepša princeska na vsem svetu, a so jo začarali in mora spati sto let. Ko bo ta čas minil, bo prišel princ in jo prebudil s poljubom.«
»In koliko časa že spi?« je vprašal princ, srce pa mu je v prsih utripalo kakor ptica. »Tega ne vem,« je odgovoril starec, »a že zelo, zelo dolgo. Moj ded je bil star mož, ko mi je to pripovedoval, pa se je niti on ni spominjal.«
Princ se je starcu zahvalil za pripoved, nato pa odjezdil proti začaranemu gozdu. Tako se mu je mudilo, da se mu nobena hitrost ni zdela dovolj velika.
Od daleč je bil gozd videti kakor temen oblak, ko pa se mu je princ približal, je začel dobivati rožnat nadih. Vse veje in trnje so začeli brsteti. Ko je prijezdil bliže, so bili že v polnem cvetju, in ko je dosegel gozdni rob, so se veje razmaknile ter pred njim odprle pot. Princ je jezdil po njej in kmalu prispel do palače. Zapeljal je na dvorišče in se začudeno razgledal. Psi so spali na soncu in se ob njegovem prihodu niso prebudili. Konji so stali kakor kipi. Stražarji so spali, naslonjeni na svoje orožje.
Princ je razjahal in stopil v palačo. Šel je iz sobe v sobo in nihče se ni prebudil, da bi ga ustavil ali zadržal. Nazadnje je prišel do stopnišča, ki je vodilo v stolp, in se povzpel po njem — više in više, kakor se je pred njim vzpenjala princeska. Prišel je v sobo na vrhu stolpa, nato pa obstal in strmel od začudenja. Na ležišču je ležala mladenka, lepša od vseh, o katerih je kdaj sanjal. Komaj je verjel, da na svetu obstaja takšna lepota. Dolgo jo je gledal, nato pa se sklonil in jo poljubil.
Pri priči — v istem trenutku — je po vsem gradu zašumelo prebujajoče se življenje. Kralj in kraljica sta se spodaj v prestolni dvorani premaknila in si pomela oči. Stražarji so se zdrznili iz spanja. Konji so zacepetali, psi pa poskočili in zalajali. Meso v kuhinji se je začelo smoditi in kuharica je fantu primazala zaušnico. Dvorjani so se nasmihali, priklanjali in se priliznjeno smehljali.
Zgoraj v stolpu je princeska odprla oči in takoj, ko je zagledala princa, ga je vzljubila. Prijel jo je za roko in ji pomagal vstati z ležišča. »Boš moja ljuba nevesta?« jo je vprašal. In princeska je privolila.
Tako sta se poročila ob velikem veselju in vseh šest vil je prišlo na poroko ter prineslo darila, lepša od vseh, kar jih je kdo kdaj videl. Sedma vila pa, če ni počila od zlobe, morda živi še danes. Princ in princesa pa sta srečno živela do konca svojih dni.
Izvirnik
There were once a King and Queen who had no children, though they had been married for many years. At last, however, a little daughter was born to them, and this was a matter of great rejoicing through all the kingdom.
When the time came for the little Princess to be christened, a grand feast was prepared, and six powerful fairies were asked to stand as her godmothers. Unfortunately the Queen forgot to invite the seventh fairy, who was the most powerful of them all, and was also very wicked and malicious.
On the day of the christening the six good fairies came early, in chariots drawn by butterflies, or by doves or wrens or other birds. They were made welcome by the King and Queen, and after some talk they were led to the hall where the feast had been set out. Everything there was very magnificent. There were delicious fruits and meats and pastries and game and everything that could be thought of. The dishes were all of gold, and for each fairy there was a goblet cut from a single precious stone. One was a diamond, one a sapphire, one a ruby, one an emerald, one an amethyst, and one a topaz. The fairies were delighted with the beauty of everything. Even in their own fairy palaces they had no such goblets as those the King had had made for them.
They were just about to take their places at the table when a great noise was heard outside on the terrace. The Queen looked from the window and almost fainted at the sight she saw. The bad fairy had arrived. She had come uninvited, and the Queen guessed that it was for no good that she came. Her chariot was of black iron, and was drawn by four dragons with flaming eyes and brass scales. The fairy sprang from her chariot in haste, and came tapping into the hall with her staff in her hand.
“How is this? How is this?” she cried to the Queen. “Here all my sisters have been invited to come and bring their gifts to the Princess, and I alone have been forgotten.”
The Queen did not know what to answer. She was frightened. However, she tried to hide her fear, and made the seventh fairy as welcome as the others. A place was set for her at the King’s right hand, and he and the Queen tried to pretend they had expected her to come. But for her there was no precious goblet, and when she saw the ones that had been given to the six other fairies her face grew green with envy, and her eyes flashed fire. She ate and drank, but she said never a word.
After the feast the little Princess was brought into the room, and she smiled so sweetly and looked so innocent that only a wicked heart could have planned evil against her.
The first fairy took the child in her arms and said, “My gift to the Princess shall be that of contentment, for contentment is better than gold.”
“Yet gold is good,” said the second fairy, “and I will give her the gift of wealth.”
“Health shall be hers,” said the third, “for wealth is of little use without it.”
“And I,” said the fourth, “will gift her with beauty to win all hearts.”
“And wit to charm all ears,” said the fifth. “That is my gift to her.”
The sixth fairy hesitated, and in that moment the wicked one stepped forward. While the others had spoken she had been swelling with spite like a toad. “And I say,” cried she, “that in her seventeenth year she shall prick her finger with a spindle and fall dead.”
When the Queen heard this she shrieked aloud, and the King grew as pale as death. But the sixth fairy stepped forward.
“Wait a bit,” said she. “I have not spoken yet. I cannot undo what our sister has done, but I say that the Princess shall not really die. She shall fall into a deep sleep that shall last a hundred years, and all in the castle shall sleep with her. At the end of that time she shall be awakened by a kiss.”
When the wicked fairy heard this she was filled with rage, but she had already spoken; she could do no more. She rushed out of the castle and jumped into her chariot, and the dragons carried her away, and where she went no one either knew nor cared.
The other fairies also went away, and they were sad because of what was to happen to the Princess.
But at once the King gave orders that every spinning-wheel and spindle in the land should be destroyed, and when this was done he felt quite happy again. For if all the spindles were gone the Princess could not prick her finger with one; and if she did not prick her finger she would not fall into the enchanted sleep.
So the King and Queen were at peace, and all went well in the castle for seventeen years. All that the fairies had promised to the Princess came true. She was so beautiful that she was the wonder of all who saw her, and so witty and gentle-hearted that everyone loved her. Beside this she had health, wealth, and contentment, and was smiling and joyous from morn till night.
One day the King and Queen went away on a journey, and the Princess took it into her head to mount to a high tower where she had never been before, and to watch for their return from there.
She found the stairs that led to the tower, and then she mounted them, up and up and up, until she was high above the roofs of the castle. At last she reached the very top of the tower, and there was an iron door with a rusty key in it.
The Princess turned the key and the door swung open. Beyond she saw a room, and an old, old, wrinkled woman sat there at a wheel spinning.
The Princess had never seen a spinning-wheel before. It seemed a curious thing to her. She went in and stood close to the old woman so as to see it better.
“What is that you are doing?” she asked.
“I am spinning,” answered the old woman.
“And what is that little thing that flies around so fast?”
“That is a spindle.”
“It is a curious little thing,” said the Princess, and she reached out her hand to touch it. Then the point of the spindle pricked her finger, and at once the Princess sighed, and her eyes closed, and she sank back on a couch in a deep sleep.
Immediately a silence fell also upon all in the castle. The King and Queen had just returned from their journey; they had alighted from their horses and had entered the castle, and just then sleep fell upon them. The courtiers who followed them also fell asleep. The dogs and horses in the courtyard slept, and the pigeons on the eaves. The boy who turned the spit in the kitchen slept and the cook did not scold him, for she too was asleep. The meat did not burn, for the fire was sleeping. Even the flies in the castle and the bees among the flowers hung motionless. All slept.
Then all about the castle sprang up an enchanted forest that shut it in like a wall. The forest grew so dark and high that at last not even the top-most tower of the castle could be seen.
But though the Princess slept she was not forgotten. Many brave princes and heroes came and tried to cut their way through the forest to rescue her, but the boughs and branches were as hard as iron, and moreover as fast as they were cut away they grew again; also they were twisted so closely together that no one could creep between them. Then as years passed by, the brave heroes who had sought the Princess grew old and had children of their own. These, too, grew to be men and married, and at last the Princess was forgotten by all, or was remembered only as an old tale.
At last a hundred years had slipped away, and then a young and handsome Prince came by that way. He had been hunting, and he had ridden so fast and eagerly that he had left his huntsmen far behind. Now he was hot and weary, and seeing a hut he stopped and asked for a drink of water.
The man who lived in the hut was very old. He brought the water the Prince asked for, and after the Prince had drank, he sat awhile and looked about him. “What is that darkness, like a cloud, that I see over yonder?” he asked.
“I cannot tell you for sure,” said the old man, “for it is a long distance away and I have never gone to see. But my grandfather told me once that it was an enchanted forest. He said there was a castle hidden deep in the midst of it, and that in that castle lay a Princess asleep. That Princess, so he said, was the most beautiful Princess in all the world, but a spell had been laid on her, and she was to sleep a hundred years. At the end of that time a Prince was to come and waken her with a kiss.”
“And how long has she slept now?” asked the Prince, and his heart beat in his breast like a bird.
“That I cannot say,” answered the old man, “but a long, long time. My grandfather was an old man when he told me, and he could not remember her.”
The Prince thanked the old man for what he had told him, and then he rode away toward the enchanted forest, and he could not go fast enough, he was in such haste.
When he was at a distance from the forest, it looked like a dark cloud, but as he came nearer it began to grow rosy. All the boughs and briers had begun to bud. By the time he was close to them they were in full flower, and when he reached the edge of the forest the branches divided, leaving an open path before him. Along this path the Prince rode and before long he came to the palace. He entered the courtyard and looked about him wondering. The dogs lay sleeping in the sunshine and never wakened at his coming. The horses stood like statues. The guards slept leaning on their arms.
The Prince dismounted and went on into the palace; on he went through one room after another, and no one woke to stop nor stay him. At last he came to the stairway that led to the tower and he went on up it,—up and up, as the Princess had done before him. He reached the tower-room, and then he stopped, and stood amazed. There on the couch lay a maiden more beautiful than he had ever dreamed of. He could scarcely believe there was such beauty in the world. He looked and looked and then he stooped and kissed her.
At once—on the moment—all through the castle sounded the hum of waking life. The King and Queen, down in the throne-room stirred and rubbed their eyes. The guards started from sleep. The horses stamped, the dogs sprang up barking. The meat in the kitchen began to burn, and the cook boxed the boy’s ears. The courtiers smiled and bowed and simpered.
Up in the tower the Princess opened her eyes, and as soon as she saw the Prince she loved him. He took her hand and raised her from the couch. “Will you be my own dear bride?” said he. And the Princess answered yes.
And so they were married with great rejoicings, and the six fairies came to the wedding and brought with them gifts more beautiful than ever were seen before. As for the seventh fairy, if she did not burst with spite she may be living still. But the Prince and Princess lived happily forever after.
