Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 01 (15 page)

"All this must be meant for me. I will go this minute
and bring my children to share all these delights."

In spite of being so cold and weary when he reached the
castle, he had taken his horse to the stable and fed it.
Now he thought he would saddle it for his homeward
journey, and he turned down the path which led to the
stable. This path had a hedge of roses on each side of it,
and the merchant thought he had never seen or smelt
such exquisite flowers. They reminded him of his promise
to Beauty, and he stopped and had just gathered one to
take to her when he was startled by a strange noise behind
him. Turning round, he saw a frightful Beast, which
seemed to be very angry and said, in a terrible voice:

"Who told you that you might gather my roses? Was
it not enough that I allowed you to be in my palace and
was kind to you? This is the way you show your gratitude,
by stealing my flowers! But your insolence shall
not go unpunished." The merchant, terrified by these
furious words, dropped the fatal rose, and, throwing
himself on his knees, cried: "Pardon me, noble sir. I am
truly grateful to you for your hospitality, which was so
magnificent that I could not imagine that you would be
offended by my taking such a little thing as a rose." But
the Beast's anger was not lessened by this speech.

"You are very ready with excuses and flattery," he
cried; "but that will not save you from the death you
deserve."

"Alas!" thought the merchant, "if my daughter
could only know what danger her rose has brought me
into!"

And in despair he began to tell the Beast all his
misfortunes, and the reason of his journey, not forgetting to
mention Beauty's request.

"A king's ransom would hardly have procured all that
my other daughters asked." he said: "but I thought that
I might at least take Beauty her rose. I beg you to forgive
me, for you see I meant no harm."

The Beast considered for a moment, and then he said,
in a less furious tone:

"I will forgive you on one condition—that is, that you
will give me one of your daughters."

"Ah!" cried the merchant, "if I were cruel enough to
buy my own life at the expense of one of my children's,
what excuse could I invent to bring her here?"

"No excuse would be necessary," answered the Beast.
"If she comes at all she must come willingly. On no other
condition will I have her. See if any one of them is
courageous enough, and loves you well enough to come
and save your life. You seem to be an honest man, so I
will trust you to go home. I give you a month to see if
either of your daughters will come back with you and stay
here, to let you go free. If neither of them is willing, you
must come alone, after bidding them good-by for ever,
for then you will belong to me. And do not imagine that
you can hide from me, for if you fail to keep your word
I will come and fetch you!" added the Beast grimly.

The merchant accepted this proposal, though he did
not really think any of his daughters could be persuaded
to come. He promised to return at the time appointed,
and then, anxious to escape from the presence of the
Beast, he asked permission to set off at once. But the
Beast answered that he could not go until next day.

"Then you will find a horse ready for you," he said.
"Now go and eat your supper, and await my orders."

The poor merchant, more dead than alive, went back
to his room, where the most delicious supper was already
served on the little table which was drawn up before a
blazing fire. But he was too terrified to eat, and only
tasted a few of the dishes, for fear the Beast should be
angry if he did not obey his orders. When he had finished
he heard a great noise in the next room, which he knew
meant that the Beast was coming. As he could do nothing
to escape his visit, the only thing that remained was to
seem as little afraid as possible; so when the Beast
appeared and asked roughly if he had supped well, the
merchant answered humbly that he had, thanks to his
host's kindness. Then the Beast warned him to remember
their agreement, and to prepare his daughter exactly for
what she had to expect.

"Do not get up to-morrow," he added, "until you see
the sun and hear a golden bell ring. Then you will find
your breakfast waiting for you here, and the horse you
are to ride will be ready in the courtyard. He will also
bring you back again when you come with your daughter
a month hence. Farewell. Take a rose to Beauty, and
remember your promise!"

The merchant was only too glad when the Beast went
away, and though he could not sleep for sadness, he lay
down until the sun rose. Then, after a hasty breakfast,
he went to gather Beauty's rose, and mounted his horse,
which carried him off so swiftly that in an instant he had
lost sight of the palace, and he was still wrapped in
gloomy thoughts when it stopped before the door of the
cottage.

His sons and daughters, who had been very uneasy at
his long absence, rushed to meet him, eager to know the
result of his journey, which, seeing him mounted upon a
splendid horse and wrapped in a rich mantle, they
supposed to be favorable. He hid the truth from them at
first, only saying sadly to Beauty as he gave her the rose:

"Here is what you asked me to bring you; you little
know what it has cost."

But this excited their curiosity so greatly that presently
he told them his adventures from beginning to end, and
then they were all very unhappy. The girls lamented
loudly over their lost hopes, and the sons declared that
their father should not return to this terrible castle, and
began to make plans for killing the Beast if it should
come to fetch him. But he reminded them that he had
promised to go back. Then the girls were very angry
with Beauty, and said it was all her fault, and that if she
had asked for something sensible this would never have
happened, and complained bitterly that they should have
to suffer for her folly.

Poor Beauty, much distressed, said to them:

"I have, indeed, caused this misfortune, but I assure
you I did it innocently. Who could have guessed that to
ask for a rose in the middle of summer would cause so
much misery? But as I did the mischief it is only just
that I should suffer for it. I will therefore go back with
my father to keep his promise."

At first nobody would hear of this arrangement, and
her father and brothers, who loved her dearly, declared
that nothing should make them let her go; but Beauty
was firm. As the time drew near she divided all her little
possessions between her sisters, and said good-by to
everything she loved, and when the fatal day came she
encouraged and cheered her father as they mounted
together the horse which had brought him back. It seemed
to fly rather than gallop, but so smoothly that Beauty was
not frightened; indeed, she would have enjoyed the journey
if she had not feared what might happen to her at the
end of it. Her father still tried to persuade her to go back,
but in vain. While they were talking the night fell, and
then, to their great surprise, wonderful colored lights
began to shine in all directions, and splendid fireworks
blazed out before them; all the forest was illuminated by
them, and even felt pleasantly warm, though it had been
bitterly cold before. This lasted until they reached the
avenue of orange trees, where were statues holding flaming
torches, and when they got nearer to the palace they
saw that it was illuminated from the roof to the ground,
and music sounded softly from the courtyard. "The
Beast must be very hungry," said Beauty, trying to
laugh, "if he makes all this rejoicing over the arrival of
his prey."

But, in spite of her anxiety, she could not help admiring
all the wonderful things she saw.

The horse stopped at the foot of the flight of steps
leading to the terrace, and when they had dismounted her
father led her to the little room he had been in before,
where they found a splendid fire burning, and the table
daintily spread with a delicious supper.

The merchant knew that this was meant for them, and
Beauty, who was rather less frightened now that she had
passed through so many rooms and seen nothing of the
Beast, was quite willing to begin, for her long ride had
made her very hungry. But they had hardly finished
their meal when the noise of the Beast's footsteps was
heard approaching, and Beauty clung to her father in
terror, which became all the greater when she saw how
frightened he was. But when the Beast really appeared,
though she trembled at the sight of him, she made a great
effort to hide her terror, and saluted him respectfully.

This evidently pleased the Beast. After looking at her
he said, in a tone that might have struck terror into the
boldest heart, though he did not seem to be angry:

"Good-evening, old man. Good-evening, Beauty."

The merchant was too terrified to reply, but Beauty
answered sweetly: "Good-evening, Beast."

"Have you come willingly?" asked the Beast. "Will
you be content to stay here when your father goes away?"

Beauty answered bravely that she was quite prepared
to stay.

"I am pleased with you," said the Beast. "As you have
come of your own accord, you may stay. As for you, old
man," he added, turning to the merchant, "at sunrise
to-morrow you will take your departure. When the bell
rings get up quickly and eat your breakfast, and you will
find the same horse waiting to take you home; but remember
that you must never expect to see my palace again."

Then turning to Beauty, he said:

"Take your father into the next room, and help him to
choose everything you think your brothers and sisters
would like to have. You will find two traveling-trunks
there; fill them as full as you can. It is only just that you
should send them something very precious as a remembrance
of yourself."

Then he went away, after saying, "Good-by, Beauty;
good-by, old man"; and though Beauty was beginning to
think with great dismay of her father's departure, she was
afraid to disobey the Beast's orders; and they went into
the next room, which had shelves and cupboards all round
it. They were greatly surprised at the riches it contained.
There were splendid dresses fit for a queen, with all the
ornaments that were to be worn with them; and when
Beauty opened the cupboards she was quite dazzled by
the gorgeous jewels that lay in heaps upon every shelf.
After choosing a vast quantity, which she divided between
her sisters—for she had made a heap of the wonderful
dresses for each of them—she opened the last chest,
which was full of gold.

"I think, father," she said, "that, as the gold will be
more useful to you, we had better take out the other
things again, and fill the trunks with it." So they did
this; but the more they put in the more room there seemed
to be, and at last they put back all the jewels and dresses
they had taken out, and Beauty even added as many
more of the jewels as she could carry at once; and then
the trunks were not too full, but they were so heavy that
an elephant could not have carried them!

"The Beast was mocking us," cried the merchant; "he
must have pretended to give us all these things, knowing
that I could not carry them away."

"Let us wait and see," answered Beauty. "I cannot
believe that he meant to deceive us. All we can do is to
fasten them up and leave them ready."

So they did this and returned to the little room, where,
to their astonishment, they found breakfast ready. The
merchant ate his with a good appetite, as the Beast's
generosity made him believe that he might perhaps venture
to come back soon and see Beauty. But she felt sure
that her father was leaving her for ever, so she was very
sad when the bell rang sharply for the second time, and
warned them that the time had come for them to part.
They went down into the courtyard, where two horses
were waiting, one loaded with the two trunks, the other
for him to ride. They were pawing the ground in their
impatience to start, and the merchant was forced to bid
Beauty a hasty farewell; and as soon as he was mounted
he went off at such a pace that she lost sight of him in an
instant. Then Beauty began to cry, and wandered sadly
back to her own room. But she soon found that she was
very sleepy, and as she had nothing better to do she lay
down and instantly fell asleep. And then she dreamed
that she was walking by a brook bordered with trees, and
lamenting her sad fate, when a young prince, handsomer
than anyone she had ever seen, and with a voice that
went straight to her heart, came and said to her, "Ah,
Beauty! you are not so unfortunate as you suppose. Here
you will be rewarded for all you have suffered elsewhere.
Your every wish shall be gratified. Only try to find me
out, no matter how I may be disguised, as I love you
dearly, and in making me happy you will find your own
happiness. Be as true-hearted as you are beautiful, and
we shall have nothing left to wish for."

"What can I do, Prince, to make you happy?" said
Beauty.

"Only be grateful," he answered, "and do not trust too
much to your eyes. And, above all, do not desert me
until you have saved me from my cruel misery."

After this she thought she found herself in a room with
a stately and beautiful lady, who said to her:

"Dear Beauty, try not to regret all you have left
behind you, for you are destined to a better fate. Only do
not let yourself be deceived by appearances."

Beauty found her dreams so interesting that she was in
no hurry to awake, but presently the clock roused her by
calling her name softly twelve times, and then she got up
and found her dressing-table set out with everything she
could possibly want; and when her toilet was finished she
found dinner was waiting in the room next to hers. But
dinner does not take very long when you are all by yourself,
and very soon she sat down cosily in the corner of a
sofa, and began to think about the charming Prince she
had seen in her dream.