There was
once a very rich
gentleman who lost his wife, and having loved her exceedingly, he was
very
sorry when she died. Finding himself quite unhappy for her loss, he
resolved
to marry a second time, thinking by this means he should be as happy as
before. Unfortunately, however, the lady he chanced to fix upon was the
proudest and most haughty woman ever known; she was always out of
humour
with every one; nobody could please her, and she returned the
civilities
of those about her with the most affronting disdain. She had two
daughters
by a former husband. These she brought up to be proud and idle. Indeed,
in temper and behaviour they perfectly resembled their mother; they did
not love their books, and would not learn to work; in short they were
disliked
by every body. The gentleman on his side too had a daughter, who in
sweetness
of temper and carriage was the exact likeness of her own mother, whose
death he had so much lamented, and whose tender care of the little girl
he was in hopes to see replaced by that of his new bride. But scarcely
was the marriage ceremony over, before his wife began to show her real
temper. She could not bear the pretty little girl, because her sweet
obliging
manners made those of her own daughters appear a thousand times the
more
odious and disagreeable. She therefore ordered her to live in the
kitchen;
and, if ever she brought any thing into the parlour, always scolded her
till she was out of sight. She made her work with the servants in
washing
the dishes, and rubbing the tables and chairs; it was her place to
clean
madam's chamber, and that of the misses her daughters, which was all
inlaid,
had beds of the newest fashion, and looking-glasses so long and broad,
that they saw themselves from head to foot in them; while the little
creature
herself was forced to sleep up in a sorry garret, upon a wretched straw
bed, without curtains, or any thing to make her comfortable. The poor
child
bore this with the greatest patience, not daring to complain to her
father,
who, she feared, would only reprove her, for she saw that his wife
governed
him entirely. When she had done all her work she used to sit in the
chimney-corner
among the cinders; so that in the house she went by the name of
Cinderbreech.
The youngest of the two sisters, however, being rather more civil than
the eldest, called her Cinderella. And Cinderella, dirty and ragged as
she was, as often happens in such cases, was a thousand times prettier
than her sisters, drest out in all their splendour. It happened that
the
king's son gave a ball, to which he invited all the persons of fashion
in the country. Our two misses were of the number, for the king's son
did
not know how disagreeable they were, but supposed, as they were so much
indulged, that they were extremely amiable. He did not invite
Cinderella,
for he had never seen or heard of her.
The two
sisters began immediately
to be very busy in preparing for the happy day. Nothing could exceed
their
joy. Every moment of their time was spent in fancying such gowns,
shoes,
and head-dresses as would set them off to the greatest advantage. All
this
was new vexation to poor Cinderella, for it was she who ironed and
plaited
her sisters' linen. They talked of nothing but how they should be
dressed:
"I," said the eldest, "will wear my scarlet velvet with French
trimming."
"And I," said the youngest, "shall wear the same petticoat I had made
for
the last ball. But then, to make amends for that, I shall put on my
gold
muslin train, and wear my diamonds in my hair; with these I must
certainly
look well." They sent several miles for the best hair dresser that was
to be had, and all their ornaments were bought at the most fashionable
shops. On the morning of the ball, they called up Cinderella to consult
with her about their dress, for they knew she had a great deal of
taste.
Cinderella gave them the best advice she could, and even offered to
assist
in adjusting their head-dresses; which was exactly what they wanted,
and
they accordingly accepted her proposal. While Cinderella was busily
engaged
in dressing her sisters, they said to her, "Should you not like,
Cinderella,
to go to the ball?" "Ah!" replied Cinderella, "you are only laughing at
me, it is not for such as I am to think of going to balls." "You are in
the right," said they, "folks might laugh indeed, to see a Cinderbreech
dancing in a ball room." Any other than Cinderella would have tried to
make the haughty creatures look as ugly as she could; but the sweet
tempered
girl on the contrary, did every thing she could think of to make them
look
well. The sisters had scarcely eaten any thing for two days, so great
was
their joy as the happy day drew near. More than a dozen laces were
broken
in endeavouring to give them a fine slender shape, and they were always
before the looking glass. At length the much wished for moment arrived;
the proud misses stepped into a beautiful carriage, and, followed by
servants
in rich liveries, drove towards the palace. Cinderella followed them
with
her eyes as far as she could; and when they were out of sight, she sat
down in a corner and began to cry. Her godmother, who saw her in tears,
asked her what ailed her. "I wish——I w-i-s-h—" sobbed poor Cinderella,
without being able to say another word. The godmother, who was a fairy,
said to her, "You wish to go to the ball, Cinderella, is not this the
truth?"
"Alas! yes," replied the poor child, sobbing still more than before.
"Well,
well, be a good girl," said the godmother, "and you shall go." She then
led Cinderella to her bedchamber, and said to her: "Run into the garden
and bring me a pumpkin." Cinderella flew like lightning, and brought
the
finest she could lay hold of. Her godmother scooped out the inside,
leaving
nothing but the rind; she then struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin
instantly became a fine coach gilded all over with gold. She then
looked
into her mouse-trap, where she found six mice all alive and brisk. She
told Cinderella to lift up the door of the trap very gently; and as the
mice passed out, she touched them one by one with her wand, and each
immediately
became a beautiful horse of a fine dapple gray mouse colour. "Here, my
child," said the godmother, "is a coach and horses too, as handsome as
your sisters', but what shall we do for a postillion?" "I will run,"
replied
Cinderella, "and see if there be not a rat in the trap. If I find one,
he will do very well for a postillion." "Well thought of, my child,"
said
her godmother; "make what haste you can."
Cinderella
brought the rat
trap, which, to her great joy, contained three of the largest rats ever
seen. The fairy chose the one which had the longest beard; and touching
him with her wand, he was instantly turned into a handsome postillion,
with the finest pair of whiskers imaginable. She next said to
Cinderella:
"Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the
watering-pot;
bring them hither." This was no sooner done, than with a stroke from
the
fairy's wand they were changed into six footmen, who all jumped up
behind
the coach in their laced liveries, and stood side by side as cleverly
as
if they had been used to nothing else the whole of their lives. The
fairy
then said to Cinderella: "Well, my dear, is not this such an equipage
as
you could wish for to take you to the ball? Are you not delighted with
it?" "Y-e-s," replied Cinderella with hesitation, "but must I go
thither
in these filthy rags?" Her godmother touched her with the wand, and her
rags instantly became the most magnificent apparel, ornamented with the
most costly jewels in the whole world. To these she added a beautiful
pair
of glass slippers, and bade her set out for the palace. The fairy,
however,
before she took leave of Cinderella, strictly charged her on no account
whatever to stay at the ball after the clock had struck twelve, telling
her that, should she stay but a single moment after that time, her
coach
would again become a pumpkin, her horses mice, her footmen lizards, and
her fine clothes be changed to filthy rags. Cinderella did not fail to
promise all her godmother desired of her; and almost wild with joy
drove
away to the palace. As soon as she arrived, the king's son, who had
been
informed that a great princess, whom nobody knew, was come to the ball,
presented himself at the door of her carriage, helped her out, and
conducted
her to the ball room. Cinderella no sooner appeared than every one was
silent; both the dancing and the music stopped, and every body was
employed
in gazing at the uncommon beauty of this unknown stranger. Nothing was
heard but whispers of "How handsome she is!" The king himself, old as
he
was, could not keep his eyes from her, and continually repeated to the
queen, that it was a long time since he had seen so lovely a creature.
The ladies endeavoured to find out how her clothes were made, that they
might get some of the same pattern for themselves by the next day,
should
they be lucky enough to meet with such handsome materials, and such
good
work-people to make them.
The king's
son conducted
her to the most honourable seat, and soon after took her out to dance
with
him. She both moved and danced so gracefully, that every one admired
her
still more than before, and she was thought the most beautiful and
accomplished
lady they ever beheld. After some time a delicious collation was served
up; but the young prince was so busily employed in looking at her, that
he did not eat a morsel. Cinderella seated herself near her sisters,
paid
them a thousand attentions, and offered them a part of the oranges and
sweetmeats with which the prince had presented her, while they on their
part were quite astonished at these civilities from a lady whom they
did
not know. As they were conversing together, Cinderella heard the clock
strike eleven and three quarters. She rose from her seat, curtesied to
the company, and hastened away as fast as she could. As soon as she got
home she flew to her godmother, and, after thanking her a thousand
times,
told her she would give the world to be able to go again to the ball
the
next day, for the king's son had entreated her to be there. While she
was
telling her godmother every thing that had happened to her at the ball,
the two sisters knocked a loud rat-tat-tat at the door; which
Cinderella
opened. "How late you have stayed!" said she, yawning, rubbing her
eyes,
and stretching herself, as if just awakened out of her sleep, though
she
had in truth felt no desire for sleep since they left her. "If you had
been at the ball," said one of her sisters, "let me tell you, you would
not have been sleepy. There came thither the handsomest, yes, the very
handsomest princess ever beheld! She paid us a thousand attentions, and
made us take a part of the oranges and sweetmeats the prince had given
her." Cinderella could scarcely contain herself for joy: she asked her
sisters the name of this princess, to which they replied, that nobody
had
been able to discover who she was; that the king's son was extremely
grieved
on that account, and had offered a large reward to any person who could
find out where she came from. Cinderella smiled, and said: "How very
beautiful
she must be! How fortunate you are! Ah, could I but see her for a
single
moment! Dear Miss Charlotte, lend me only the yellow gown you wear
every
day, and let me go to see her." "Oh! yes, I warrant you; lend my
clothes
to a Cinderbreech! Do you really suppose me such a fool? No, no; pray,
Miss Forward, mind your proper business, and leave dress and balls to
your
betters." Cinderella expected some such answer, and was by no means
sorry,
for she would have been sadly at a loss what to do if her sister had
lent
her the clothes that she asked of her.
The next
day the two sisters
again appeared at the ball, and so did Cinderella, but dressed much
more
magnificently than the night before. The king's son was continually by
her side, and said the most obliging things imaginable to her. The
charming
young creature was far from being tired of all the agreeable things she
met with. On the contrary, she was so delighted with them that she
entirely
forgot the charge her godmother had given her. Cinderella at last heard
the striking of a clock, and counted one, two, three, on till she came
to twelve, though she thought that it could be but eleven at most. She
got up and flew as nimbly as a deer out of the ball-room. The prince
tried
to overtake her; but poor Cinderella's fright made her run the faster.
However, in her great hurry, she dropped one of her glass slippers from
her foot, which the prince stooped down and picked up, and took the
greatest
care of it possible. Cinderella got home tired and out of breath, in
her
old clothes, without either coach or footmen, and having nothing left
of
her magnificence but the fellow of the glass slipper which she had
dropped.
In the mean while, the prince had inquired of all his guards at the
palace
gates, if they had not seen a magnificent princess pass out, and which
way she went? The guards replied, that no princess had passed the
gates;
and that they had not seen a creature but a little ragged girl, who
looked
more like a beggar than a princess. When the two sisters returned from
the ball, Cinderella asked them if they had been as much amused as the
night before, and if the beautiful princess had been there? They told
her
that she had; but that as soon as the clock struck twelve, she hurried
away from the ball room, and in the great haste she had made, had
dropped
one of her glass slippers, which was the prettiest shape that could be;
that the king's son had picked it up, and had done nothing but look at
it all the rest of the evening; and that every body believed he was
violently
in love with the handsome lady to whom it belonged.
This was
very true; for a
few days after, the prince had it proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that
he would marry the lady whose foot should exactly fit the slipper he
had
found. Accordingly the prince's messengers took the slipper, and
carried
it first to all the princesses, then to the duchesses, in short, to all
the ladies of the court. But without success. They then brought it to
the
two sisters, who each tried all she could to squeeze her foot into the
slipper, but saw at last that this was quite impossible. Cinderella who
was looking at them all the while, and knew her slipper, could not help
smiling, and ventured to say, "Pray, sir, let me try to get on the
slipper."
The gentleman made her sit down; and putting the slipper to her foot,
it
instantly slipped in, and he saw that it fitted her like wax. The two
sisters
were amazed to see that the slipper fitted Cinderella; but how much
greater
was their astonishment when she drew out of her pocket the other
slipper
and put it on! Just at this moment the fairy entered the room, and
touching
Cinderella's clothes with her wand, made her all at once appear more
magnificently
dressed than they had ever seen her before.
The two
sisters immediately
perceived that she was the beautiful princess they had seen at the
ball.
They threw themselves at her feet, and asked her forgiveness for the
ill
treatment she had received from them. Cinderella helped them to rise,
and,
tenderly embracing them, said that she forgave them with all her heart,
and begged them to bestow on her their affection. Cinderella was then
conducted,
dressed as she was, to the young prince, who finding her more beautiful
than ever, instantly desired her to accept of his hand. The marriage
ceremony
took place in a few days; and Cinderella, who was as amiable as she was
handsome, gave her sisters magnificent apartments in the palace, and a
short time after married them to two great lords of the court.
BACK
|
