Perrault’s Stories
Les Contes de
Perrault
(English)
Author: Charles
Perrault
Translator: Charles
Welsh
Translator/Editor:
Nik Marcel 2014
English translated from French.
Copyright
© 2018 Nik Marcel
All
rights reserved.
A Bilingual (Dual-Language) Project
2Language Books
Perrault’s Stories
The Sleeping
Beauty in the Woods
There was at one time a King and a Queen who were
so disappointed that they did not have children — so sorry that one cannot
express it.
They went to all the waters of the world; they made
vows, undertook pilgrimages, performed fine devotions; all means were employed,
but nothing of this worked.
At last, however, the Queen became pregnant, and
gave birth to a daughter. There was an impressive baptism; and the Princess had
for her godmothers all the fairies they could find in the country (there were
seven of them), so that every one of them might give her a gift — as was the
custom of fairies in those times. The princess had, by this means, all the
perfections imaginable.
After the baptism ceremony, the whole gathering
returned to the King’s palace, where there was a great feast for the fairies.
There was set before each one of them a magnificent
setting, including a case made of solid gold, in which was a spoon, a fork, and
a knife — of fine gold, set with diamonds and rubies.
However, as they were taking their places at table
they saw a very old fairy come into the hall. She had not been invited, because
for more than fifty years she had not left a certain tower, and she was believed
to be either dead or enchanted.
The King ordered her a cover, but he could not give
her a case of solid gold as the others had, because only seven had been made:
for the seven fairies.
The old fairy fancied she had been slighted, and
muttered several threats between her teeth.
One of the young fairies who was sitting near her
overheard, and, judging that she might give the little Princess some unlucky
gift, hid herself behind the curtains as soon as they left the table. She hoped
that she might speak last and undo — as much as she could — the evil that the
old fairy might do.
In the meantime, all the fairies began to give
their gifts to the Princess.
The youngest gave her for her gift that she should
be the most beautiful person in the world; the next, that she should be as good
as an angel; the third, that she should be able to do everything she did
gracefully; the fourth, that she should dance perfectly; the fifth, that she
should sing like a nightingale; and the sixth, that she should play all kinds
of musical instruments to perfection.
The old fairy’s turn came next, and with her head
shaking — more with spite than with age —, she said that the Princess should
pierce her hand with a spindle and die from the wound.
This terrible gift made the whole company tremble,
and there was not a single person who did not weep.
At this very moment, the young fairy came from
behind the curtains and said these words in a loud voice:
“Assure yourselves, Oh King and Queen, that your
daughter shall not die from this disaster. It is true that I do not have enough
power to undo entirely what my elder has done.
The Princess shall indeed pierce her hand with a
spindle; but, instead of dying from this, she shall only fall into a deep
sleep, which shall last a hundred years, at the end of which a king’s son shall
come and awaken her.”
The King, to avoid the misfortune foretold by the
old fairy, published an edict forbidding any one, under penalty of death, to
spin with a distaff and spindle, or even to keep a spindle in their house.
About fifteen or sixteen years afterwards, when the
King and Queen had gone to one of their country villas, it happened that the
young Princess was one day running in the palace; and, going from room to room,
she at last came into a little loft on the top of the tower, where a good old
woman, all alone, was spinning with her spindle.
This fine woman had never heard of the King’s ban
on spinning with a spindle.
“What are you doing there, my good woman?” said the
Princess.
“I am spinning, my pretty child,” replied the old
woman, who did not know who the Princess was.
“Ah! That is very pretty;" said the Princess,
“how do you do it? Give it to me. Let me see if I can do what you are doing.”
She had no sooner taken the spindle in her hand
than — either because she was too quick and a little heedless, or because the
decree of the fairy had so ordained — it pierced her hand, and she fell down in
a faint.
The good old woman, utterly distraught, cried out
for help. People came in from every quarter; they threw water upon the face of
the Princess, unlaced her dress, struck her on the palms of her hands, and
rubbed her temples with ‘water from the queen of Hungary’; but nothing was sufficient to bring
her round.
Then the King, who came up at hearing the noise,
remembered what the fairies had foretold. He knew very well that this must come
to pass, since the fairies had foretold it, and had the Princess put in the
finest room in the palace, and laid upon a bed ornamented with gold and silver.
One could have taken her for an angel, such was her
beauty; for her faint had not dimmed the vibrant colour of her complexion: her
cheeks were rosy, and her lips were an orange pink colour. It is true that her
eyes were shut, but she could be heard breathing softly, which proved that she
was not dead.
The King gave orders that they should let her sleep
peacefully, until the time came for her to awaken.
The good fairy who had saved her life by condemning
her to sleep a hundred years was in the kingdom of Matakin, twelve thousand
leagues off, when this accident befell the Princess; but she was instantly
informed of it by a little dwarf, who had seven-leagued boots — that is, boots
with which he could cover seven leagues of ground in a single step.
The fairy started off at once, and arrived about an
hour later, in a fiery chariot drawn by dragons.
The King offered her his hand to get out of the
chariot. She approved of everything he had done; but as she had great
foresight, she thought that when the Princess awoke, she might be rather
perplexed, all alone in this old palace.
This was what she did: she touched everything in
the palace with her wand (except the King and Queen),—governesses, maids of
honour, ladies of the bedchamber, gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks,
undercooks, kitchen maids, guards, porters, pages, and footmen; she likewise
touched all the horses that were in the stables, with the grooms, the great
mastiffs in the outer court, and even little Pouffe, the Princess’s little dog,
which was lying beside her on the bed.
As soon as she touched them they all fell asleep,
not to awake again until their mistress did, to be ready to serve her when she
needed them. Even the spits at the fire, which were entirely full of partridges
and pheasants, fell asleep. The fire fell asleep too.
All this was done in a moment, for fairies need
little time to do things.
Then the king and queen, having kissed their
daughter (without her waking), left the palace; and ordered an edict be published
forbidding any person, whoever they may be, from approaching.
These bans were not necessary; for in just a
quarter of an hour, there grew up all round about the park such a vast number
of trees, great and small, bushes and brambles, twining one within the other,
such that neither man nor beast could pass through. In this way, nothing could
be seen but the very top of the towers of the castle tower; and that, too, only
from afar off.
Nobody doubted that this also was the work of the
fairy, so that while the Princess slept she should have nothing to fear from
curious folk.
After a hundred years the son of the King then
reigning, who was of another family from that of the sleeping Princess, was
hunting on that side of the forest, and he asked everyone what those towers
were that he saw in the middle of a great thick wood. Everyone answered
according to what they had heard.
Some said that it was an old castle, where lost
souls gathered; others that all the witches of the country held their Sabbaths
there.
The most popular opinion was that an ogre was
dwelling there, and that he carried to it all the little children he could
catch, so as to eat them up at his leisure, without any one being able to
follow him, for he alone had the power to make his way through the wood.
The Prince did not know what to believe, when an
old farmer spoke to him, saying:
“Mr Prince, it was more than fifty years ago that I
heard my father say that there was a princess in this castle, the most
beautiful in the world; and that she must sleep there a hundred years, and that
she should be awakened by a king’s son, for whom she was reserved.”
The young Prince, on hearing this, was all on fire.
He thought, without any hesitation, that he could put an end to this beautiful
adventure; and, driven by love and glory, resolved at once to see what was
there.
As soon as he began to get near to the wood, all
the great trees, the bushes, and brambles parted by themselves to let him pass
through.
He walked up to the castle that he could see at the
end of a large avenue (in which he had entered); and he was a little surprised
when he saw none of his party had been able to follow him, for the trees closed
again, just as soon as he had passed through them.
Nevertheless, he continued on his way: a young
prince in search of glory is always valiant.
He came into a vast outer court, and what he saw
was enough to freeze him with fear. There was a frightful silence. The image of
death was on display everywhere, and there was nothing there save bodies of men
and animals, all of which seemed dead.
However, he very well knew by the pimpled noses and
ruddy faces of the porters that they were only asleep; and their glasses, which
still contained some drops of wine, showed plainly enough that they had fallen
asleep while drinking.
He then crossed a court paved with marble, went up
the stairs, and entered into the guards chamber, where guards were standing in
their ranks, with their muskets upon their shoulders, and snoring with all
their might.
He went through several rooms full of gentlemen and
ladies, some standing and others sitting, but all were asleep.
He came into a gilded chamber, where he saw upon a
bed, the curtains of which were open on all sides, the most beautiful sight
that he had ever beheld: a princess, who appeared to be about fifteen or
sixteen years of age, and whose resplendent beauty had something luminous and
divine in it.
He approached, trembling and with admiration. He
knelt down beside her.
Then, as the end of the enchantment had come, the
Princess awoke; and looking upon him with eyes more tender than could have been
expected at first sight, said, “Is it you, my Prince? You have been waiting a
long while.”
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