Presently he went down to the yard behind the house, and slaughtered a young lamb. For this he made so delicious a sauce that his mistress declared she had never eaten anything so good.
At the same time the steward carried little Dawn to his wife, and bade the latter hide her in the quarters which they had below the yard.
Eight days later the wicked queen summoned her steward again.
“For my supper,” she announced, “I will eat little Day.”
The steward made no answer, being determined to trick her as he had done previously. He went in search of little Day, whom he found with a tiny foil in his hand, making brave passes—though he was but three years old—at a big monkey. He carried him off to his wife, who stowed him away in hiding with little Dawn. To the ogress the steward served up, in place of Day, a young kid so tender that she found it surpassingly delicious.
So far, so good. But there came an evening when this evil queen again addressed the steward.
“I have a mind,” she said, “to eat the queen with the same sauce as you served with her children.”
This time the poor steward despaired of being able to practice another deception. The young queen was twenty years old, without counting the hundred years she had been asleep. Her skin, though white and beautiful, had become a little tough, and what animal could he possibly find that would correspond to her? He made up his mind that if he would save his own life he must kill the queen, and went upstairs to her apartment determined to do the deed once and for all. Goading himself into a rage he drew his knife and entered the young queen’s chamber, but a reluctance to give her no moment of grace made him repeat respectfully the command which he had received from the queen mother.
“Do it! do it!” she cried, baring her neck to him; “carry out the order you have been given! Then once more I shall see my children, my poor children that I loved so much!”
Nothing had been said to her when the children were stolen away, and she believed them to be dead.
The poor steward was overcome by compassion. “No, no, Madam,” he declared; “you shall not die, but you shall certainly see your children again. That will be in my quarters, where I have hidden them. I shall make the queen eat a young hind in place of you, and thus trick her once more.”
Without more ado he led her to his quarters, and leaving her there to embrace and weep over her children, proceeded to cook a hind with such art that the queen mother ate it for her supper with as much appetite as if it had indeed been the young queen.
The queen mother felt well satisfied with her cruel deeds, and planned to tell the king, on his return, that savage wolves had devoured his consort and his children. It was her habit, however, to prowl often about the courts and alleys of the mansion, in the hope of scenting raw meat, and one evening she heard the little boy Day crying in a basement cellar. The child was weeping because his mother had threatened to whip him for some naughtiness, and she heard at the same time the voice of Dawn begging forgiveness for her brother.
The ogress recognized the voices of the queen and her children, and was enraged to find she had been tricked. The next morning, in tones so affrighting that all trembled, she ordered a huge vat to be brought into the middle of the courtyard. This she filled with vipers and toads, with snakes and serpents of every kind, intending to cast into it the queen and her children, and the steward with his wife and serving girl. By her command these were brought forward, with their hands tied behind their backs.
There they were, and her minions were making ready to cast them into the vat, when into the courtyard rode the king! Nobody had expected him so soon, but he had traveled posthaste. Filled with amazement, he demanded to know what this horrible spectacle meant. None dared tell him, and at that moment the ogress, enraged at what confronted her, threw herself head foremost into the vat, and was devoured on the instant by the hideous creatures she had placed in it.
The king could not but be sorry, for after all she was his mother; but it was not long before he found ample consolation in his beautiful wife and children.
Moral
Many a girl has waited long
For a husband brave or strong;
But I’m sure I never met
Any sort of woman yet
Who could wait a hundred years,
Free from fretting, free from fears.
Now, our story seems to show
That a century or so,
Late or early, matters not;
True love comes by fairy-lot.
Some old folk will even say
It grows better by delay.
Yet this good advice, I fear,
Helps us neither there nor here.
Though philosophers may prate
How much wiser ‘tis to wait,
Maids will be a-sighing still—
Young blood must when young blood will!
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
Once upon a time there was a little village girl, the prettiest that had ever been seen. Her mother doted on her. Her grandmother was even fonder, and made her a little red hood, which became her so well that everywhere she went by the name of Little Red Riding Hood.
One day her mother, who had just made and baked some cakes, said to her:
“Go and see how your grandmother is, for I have been told that she is ill. Take her a cake and this little pot of butter.”
Little Red Riding Hood set off at once for the house of her grandmother, who lived in another village.
On her way through a wood she met old Father Wolf He would have very much liked to eat her, but dared not do so on account of some woodcutters who were in the forest. He asked her where she was going. The poor child, not knowing that it was dangerous to stop and listen to a wolf, said:
“ I am going to see my grandmother, and am taking her a cake and a pot of butter which my mother has sent to her.”
“Does she live far away?” asked the Wolf.
“Oh yes,” replied Little Red Riding Hood; “it is yonder by the mill which you can see right below there, and it is the first house in the village.”
He sprang upon the poor old lady and ate her up
“Well now,” said the Wolf, “I think I shall go and see her too. I will go by this path, and you by that path, and we will see who gets there first.”
The Wolf set off running with all his might by the shorter road, and the little girl continued on her way by the longer road. As she went she amused herself by gathering nuts, running after the butterflies, and making nosegays of the wild flowers which she found.
The Wolf was not long in reaching the grandmother’s house.
He knocked. Toc Toc.
“Who is there?”
“It is your little daughter, Red Riding Hood,” said the Wolf, disguising his voice, “and I bring you a cake and a little pot of butter as a present from my mother.”
The worthy grandmother was in bed, not being very well, and cried out to him:
“Pull out the peg and the latch will fall.”
The Wolf drew out the peg and the door flew open. Then he sprang upon the poor old lady and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been more than three days without food.
After that he shut the door, lay down in the grandmother’s bed, and waited for Little Red Riding Hood.
Presently she came and knocked. Toc Toc.
“Who is there?”
Now Little Red Riding Hood on hearing the Wolf’s gruff voice was at first frightened, but thinking that her grandmother had a bad cold, she replied:
“It is your little daughter, Red Riding Hood, and I bring you a cake and a little pot of butter from my mother.”
She was astonished to see how her grandmother looked
Softening his voice, the Wolf called out to her:
“Pull out the peg and the latch will fall.”
Little Red Riding Hood drew out the peg and the door flew open.
When he saw her enter, the Wolf hid himself in the bed beneath the counterp
ane.
“ Put the cake and the little pot of butter on the bin,” he said, “and come up on the bed with me.”
Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes, but when she climbed up on the bed she was astonished to see how her grandmother looked in her nightgown.
“Grandmother dear!” she exclaimed, “what big arms you have!”
“The better to embrace you, my child!”
“Grandmother dear, what big legs you have!”
“The better to run with, my child!”
“Grandmother dear, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear with, my child!”
“Grandmother dear, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see with, my child!”
“Grandmother dear, what big teeth you have!”
“The better to eat you with!”
With these words the wicked Wolf leaped upon Little Red Riding Hood and gobbled her up.
Moral
Little girls, this seems to say,
Never stop upon your way.
Never trust a stranger-friend;
No one knows how it will end.
As you’re pretty, so be wise;
Wolves may lurk in every guise.
Handsome they may be, and kind,
Gay, or charming—never mind!
Now, as then, ’tis simple truth—
Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!
BLUE BEARD
Once upon a time there was a man who owned splendid town and country houses, gold and silver plate, tapestries and coaches gilt all over. But the poor fellow had a blue beard, and this made him so ugly and frightful that there was not a woman or girl who did not run away at sight of him.
Amongst his neighbors was a lady of high degree who had two surpassingly beautiful daughters. He asked for the hand of one of these in marriage, leaving it to their mother to choose which should be bestowed upon him. Both girls, however, raised objections, and his offer was bandied from one to the other, neither being able to bring herself to accept a man with a blue beard. Another reason for their distaste was the fact that he had already married several wives, and no one knew what had become of them.
In order that they might become better acquainted, Blue Beard invited the two girls, with their mother and three or four of their best friends, to meet a party of young men from the neighborhood at one of his country houses. Here they spent eight whole days, and throughout their stay there was a constant round of picnics, hunting and fishing expeditions, dances, dinners, and luncheons; and they never slept at all, through spending all the night in playing merry pranks upon each other. In short, everything went so gaily that the younger daughter began to think the master of the house had not so very blue a beard after all, and that he was an exceedingly agreeable man. As soon as the party returned to town their marriage took place.
“If you were to open the door, I should be very angry”
At the end of a month Blue Beard informed his wife that important business obliged him to make a journey into a distant part of the country, which would occupy at least six weeks. He begged her to amuse herself well during his absence, and suggested that she should invite some of her friends and take them, if she liked, to the country. He was particularly anxious that she should enjoy herself thoroughly.
“Here,” he said, “are the keys of the two large storerooms, and here is the one that locks up the gold and silver plate which is not in everyday use. This key belongs to the strongboxes where my gold and silver is kept, this to the caskets containing my jewels; while here you have the master key which gives admittance to all the apartments. As regards this little key, it is the key of the small room at the end of the long passage on the lower floor. You may open everything, you may go everywhere, but I forbid you to enter this little room. And I forbid you so seriously that if you were indeed to open the door, I should be so angry that I might do anything.”
She promised to follow out these instructions exactly, and after embracing her, Blue Beard stepped into his coach and was off upon his journey.
Her neighbors and friends did not wait to be invited before coming to call upon the young bride, so great was their eagerness to see the splendors of her house. They had not dared to venture while her husband was there, for his blue beard frightened them. But in less than no time there they were, running in and out of the rooms, the closets, and the wardrobes, each of which was finer than the last. Presently they went upstairs to the storerooms, and there they could not admire enough the profusion and magnificence of the tapestries, beds, sofas, cabinets, tables, and stands. There were mirrors in which they could view themselves from top to toe, some with frames of plate glass, others with frames of silver and gilt lacquer, that were the most superb and beautiful things that had ever been seen. They were loud and persistent in their envy of their friend’s good fortune. She, on the other hand, derived little amusement from the sight of all these riches, the reason being that she was impatient to go and inspect the little room on the lower floor.
Her friends were eager to see the splendors of her house
So overcome with curiosity was she that, without reflecting upon the discourtesy of leaving her guests, she ran down a private staircase, so precipitately that twice or thrice she nearly broke her neck, and so reached the door of the little room. There she paused for a while, thinking of the prohibition which her husband had made, and reflecting that harm might come to her as a result of disobedience. But the temptation was so great that she could not conquer it. Taking the little key, with a trembling hand she opened the door of the room.
At first she saw nothing, for the windows were closed, but after a few moments she perceived dimly that the floor was entirely covered with clotted blood, and that in this were reflected the dead bodies of several women that hung along the walls. These were all the wives of Blue Beard, whose throats he had cut, one after another.
She thought to die of terror, and the key of the room, which she had just withdrawn from the lock, fell from her hand.
When she had somewhat regained her senses, she picked up the key, closed the door, and went up to her chamber to compose herself a little. But this she could not do, for her nerves were too shaken. Noticing that the key of the little room was stained with blood, she wiped it two or three times. But the blood did not go. She washed it well, and even rubbed it with sand and grit. Always the blood remained. For the key was bewitched, and there was no means of cleaning it completely. When the blood was removed from one side, it reappeared on the other.
Blue Beard returned from his journey that very evening. He had received some letters on the way, he said, from which he learned that the business upon which he had set forth had just been concluded to his satisfaction. His wife did everything she could to make it appear that she was delighted by his speedy return.
On the morrow he demanded the keys. She gave them to him, but with so trembling a hand that he guessed at once what had happened.
“How comes it,” he said to her, “that the key of the little room is not with the others?”
“I must have left it upstairs upon my table,” she said.
“Do not fail to bring it to me presently,” said Blue Beard.
After several delays the key had to be brought. Blue Beard examined it, and addressed his wife.
“Why is there blood on this key?”
“I do not know at all,” replied the poor woman, paler than death.
“You do not know at all?” exclaimed Blue Beard; “I know well enough. You wanted to enter the little room! Well, madam, enter it you shall—you shall go and take your place among the ladies you have seen there.”
She threw herself at her husband’s feet, asking his pardon with tears, and with all the signs of a true repentance for her disobedience. She would have softened a rock, in her beauty and distress, but Blue Beard had a heart harder than any stone.
“You must die, madam,” he said; “and at once.”
“Since I
must die,” she replied, gazing at him with eyes that were wet with tears, “give me a little time to say my prayers.”
“I give you one quarter of an hour,” replied Blue Beard, “but not a moment longer.”
When the poor girl was alone, she called her sister to her and said:
“Sister Anne”—for that was her name—“go up, I implore you, to the top of the tower, and see if my brothers are not approaching. They promised that they would come and visit me today. If you see them, make signs to them to hasten.”
Sister Anne went up to the top of the tower, and the poor unhappy girl cried out to her from time to time:
“Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?”
And Sister Anne replied:
“ I see nought but dust in the sun and the green grass growing.”
“Heaven be praised, they are my brothers!”
Presently Blue Beard, grasping a great cutlass, cried out at the top of his voice:
“Come down quickly, or I shall come upstairs myself.”
“Oh please, one moment more,” called out his wife.
And at the same moment she cried in a whisper:
“Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?”
“I see nought but dust in the sun and the green grass growing.”
“Come down at once, I say,” shouted Blue Beard, “or I will come upstairs myself.”
“I am coming,” replied his wife.
Then she called:
“Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?”
“I see,” replied Sister Anne, “a great cloud of dust which comes this way.”
“Is it my brothers?”
“Alas, sister, no; it is but a flock of sheep.”
“Do you refuse to come down?” roared Blue Beard.
Perrault's Fairy Tales (Dover Children's Classics) Page 2
