Cinderela e a Fada Madrinha

Prévia do material em texto

cendrillon ou la petite pantoufle de verre 
CINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER 
by Charles Perrault 
 
Once upon a time there was a nobleman, who took for a second wife the haughtiest and 
proudest woman that had ever been seen. She had two daughters of the same temper, and 
who resembled her in everything. The husband, on his side, had a daughter, of unexampled 
gentleness and goodness. She inherited these qualities from her mother, who had been the 
best creature in the world. 
The wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke out. She could not 
endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her own daughters appear still more 
detestable. She put her to do all the most menial work in the house. It was she who washed 
up the plates and dishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and 
those of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house, on a wretched straw 
mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with inlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned 
beds, and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore 
everything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who would only have 
scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife. When she had done her work, she was in 
the habit of going into the chimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which 
caused her to be nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second daughter, 
however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her Cinderella. Nevertheless, 
Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked a thousand times more beautiful than her 
sisters, although so magnificently dressed. 
It happened that the King's son gave a ball, to which he invited everyone of position. Our 
two fine ladies were among those who received an invitation, for they made a great show in 
the neighbourhood. They were now in great delight, and very busy choosing the most 
becoming gowns and head-dresses. A new mortification for poor Cinderella, for it was she 
who had to iron her sisters' fine linen, and goffer their ruffles. No one talked of anything but 
of the style in which they were to be dressed. "I," said the eldest, "will wear my red velvet 
dress, and my English point-lace trimmings." "I," said the youngest, "shall only wear my 
usual petticoat; but, to make up for that, I shall put on my gold-flowered cloak, and my clasp 
of diamonds, which are none of the least valuable." They sent for a first-rate milliner, that 
their caps might be made to fashion, and they bought their patches from the best maker. 
They called Cinderella to give them her opinion, for her taste was excellent. Cinderella gave 
them the best advice in the world, and even offered to dress their hair for them, which they 
were very willing she should do. 
Whilst she was busy with the hairdressing, they said to her, "Cinderella, should you be very 
glad to go to the ball?" 
"Alas! you only make fun of me; such a thing would not be suitable for me at all." 
"You are right; they would indeed laugh to see a Cindertail at the ball!" 
Any other than Cinderella would have dressed their hair awry, but she had a good 
disposition, and arranged it for both of them to perfection. They could eat nothing for nearly 
two days, so transported were they with joy. More than a dozen laces were broken in making 
their waists as small as possible, and they were continually before their looking-glasses. At 
last the happy day arrived. They set off, and Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long 
as she could. When they were out of sight she began to cry. Her godmother, who saw her all 
in tears, asked her what was the matter. "I should so like—I should so like—" she sobbed so 
violently that she could not finish the sentence. "You would so like to go to the ball, is not 
that it?" 
"Alas! yes," said Cinderella, sighing. 
"Well, if you will be a good girl, I will undertake that you shall go." She took her into her 
room, and said to her, "Go into the garden and bring me a pumpkin." Cinderella went at 
once, gathered the finest she could find, and brought it to her godmother, wondering the 
while how a pumpkin could enable her to go to the ball. Her godmother scooped it out, and, 
having left nothing but the rind, struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin was immediately 
changed into a beautiful coach, gilt all over. She then went and looked into the mouse-trap, 
where she found six mice, all alive. She told Cinderella to lift the door of the mouse-trap a 
little, and to each mouse, as it ran out, she gave a tap with her wand, and the mouse was 
immediately changed into a fine horse, so that at last there stood ready a handsome train of 
six horses, of a beautiful dappled mouse-grey colour. As she was in some difficulty as to what 
she could take to turn into a coachman, Cinderella said, "I will go and see if there is not a rat 
in the rat-trap; we will make a coachman of him." 
"You are right," said her godmother, "go and see." 
Cinderella brought her the rat-trap, in which there were three large rats. The fairy chose one 
from the three on account of its ample beard, and having touched it, it was changed into a fat 
coachman, with the finest whiskers that ever were seen. She then said, "Go into the garden, 
and there, behind the watering-pot, you will find six lizards, bring them to me." Cinderella 
had no sooner brought them than the godmother changed them into six footmen, with their 
liveries all covered with lace, who immediately jumped up behind the coach, and hung on to 
it as if they had done nothing else all their lives. The fairy then said to Cinderella, "Well, 
there is something in which to go to the ball; are you not well pleased?" 
"Yes, but am I to go in these dirty old clothes?" Her godmother touched her lightly with her 
wand, and in the same instant her dress was changed into one of gold and silver, covered 
with precious stones. She then gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the world. 
When she was thus attired, she got into the coach; but her godmother told her, above all 
things, not to stay past midnight—warning her, that if she remained at the ball a minute 
longer, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her horses, mice, her footmen, lizards, and 
her clothes turn again into her old ones. She promised her godmother that she would not fail 
to leave the ball before midnight, and drove off, almost out of her mind with joy. 
The King's son, who was informed that a grand Princess had arrived whom nobody knew, 
ran to receive her. He handed her out of the coach and led her into the hall, where the guests 
were assembled. There was immediately a dead silence; the dancing stopped, and the fiddlers 
ceased to play, so engaged did everyone become in gazing upon the wonderful beauty of the 
unknown lady. Nothing was heard but a general murmur of "Oh! how lovely she is!" The 
King himself, old as he was, could not take his eyes from her, and observed to the Queen, that 
it was a long time since he had seen so lovely and amiable a person. All the ladies were 
intently occupied in examining her head-dress and her clothes, that they might order some 
like them the very next day, provided that they might be able to find materials as costly, and 
work-people sufficiently clever to make them up. 
The King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and then led her out to dance. 
She danced so gracefully that everybody's admiration of her was increased. A very grand 
supper was served, of which the Prince ate not a morsel, so absorbed was he in the 
contemplation of her beauty. She seated herself beside her sisters, and showed them a 
thousand civilities. She shared with them the oranges and citrons which the Prince had 
given her, at which they were greatly surprised, for she appeared a perfect stranger to them. 
While they were thus talking together,which the Princesses lived. If they had been very delicate they 
must have died a hundred times. They slept almost always in the open air, and every morning 
and evening they took it by turns to water the acorn, saying to it, "Grow, grow, beautiful 
acorn!" It began to grow so fast that you could see it grow. When it had got to some size, 
Fleur d'Amour tried to climb it, but it was not strong enough to bear her; she felt it bend 
under her weight, and so she came down again. Belle-de-Nuit was not more successful. 
Finette, being lighter, managed to get up and remain a long time. Her sisters called to her, 
"Canst thou see anything, sister?" She answered, "No, I can see nothing." "Ah, then, the oak 
is not tall enough," said Fleur d'Amour; so they continued to water it, and say, "Grow, grow, 
beautiful acorn!" Finette never failed climbing it twice a-day. One morning when she was up 
in the tree, Belle-de-Nuit said to Fleur d'Amour, "I have found a bag which our sister has 
hidden from us. What can there be in it?" Fleur d'Amour replied, "She told me it contained 
some old lace she had got to mend." "I believe it is full of sugar-plums," said Belle-de-Nuit. 
She had a sweet tooth, and determined to ascertain the fact. She opened the bag, and found 
in it actually a quantity of old lace belonging to the King and Queen, but hidden beneath it 
were the fine clothes the Fairy had given to Finette, and the box of diamonds. "Well, now! 
was there ever such a sly little rogue?" exclaimed Belle-de-Nuit; "we will take out all the 
things, and put some stones in their place." They did so directly. Finette rejoined them, 
without observing what they had done, for she never dreamed of decking herself out in a 
desert; she thought of nothing but the oak, which speedily became the finest oak that ever 
was seen. 
One day that she had climbed up into it, and that her sisters as usual asked her if she could 
see anything, she exclaimed, "I can see a large mansion, so fine—so fine, that I want words to 
describe it; the walls are of emeralds and rubies, the roof of diamonds; it is all covered with 
golden bells and weathercocks that whirl about as the wind blows." "Thou liest," said they; 
"it cannot be as fine as thou sayest." "Believe me," replied Finette, "I am no story-teller; 
come and see for yourselves; my eyes are quite dazzled by it." Fleur d'Amour climbed up the 
tree. When she saw the château, she could talk of nothing else. Belle-de-Nuit, who had a 
great deal of curiosity, failed not to climb in her turn, and was as much enchanted as her 
sisters at the sight of the château. "We must certainly go to this palace," they said; "perhaps 
we shall find in it some handsome princes, who will be only too happy to marry us." They 
talked the whole evening long on this subject, and lay down to sleep on the grass; but when 
Finette appeared to them in a sound slumber, Fleur d'Amour said to Belle-de-Nuit, "I'll tell 
you what we should do, sister; let us get up and dress ourselves in the fine clothes Finette has 
brought hither." "You are in the right," said Belle-de-Nuit; so they got up, curled their hair, 
powdered it, put patches on their cheeks,[1] and dressed themselves in the beautiful gold and 
silver gowns all covered with diamonds. Never was anything so magnificent. Finette, 
ignorant of the theft her wicked sisters had committed, took up her bag with the intention of 
dressing herself, but was vastly distressed to find nothing in it but flints. At the same 
moment she perceived her sisters shining like suns. She wept, and complained of the 
treachery they had been guilty of towards her, but they only laughed and made a joke of it. 
"Is it possible," said she to them, "that you will have the effrontery to take me to the château, 
without dressing and making me as fine as you are?" "We have barely enough for ourselves," 
replied Fleur d'Amour. "Thou shalt have nothing but blows, an' thou importunest us." "But," 
continued she, "the clothes you have on are mine; my godmother gave them to me. You have 
no claim to them." "If thou sayest more about it," said they, "we will knock thee on the head, 
and bury thee without any one being the wiser!" Poor Finette did not dare provoke them; she 
followed them slowly, walking some short distance behind them, as if she were only their 
servant. 
The nearer they approached to the mansion the more wonderful it appeared to them. "Oh!" 
said Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit, "how we shall amuse ourselves!—what capital 
dinners we shall get! We shall dine at the King's table; but Finette will have to wash the 
dishes in the kitchen, for she looks like a scullion; and if anybody asks who she is, we must 
take care not to call her our sister; we must say she is the little cowkeeper in the village." The 
lovely and sensible Finette was in despair at being so ill-treated. 
When they reached the castle-gate they knocked at it. It was opened immediately by a 
terrific old woman. She had but one eye, which was in the middle of her forehead, but it was 
bigger than five or six ordinary ones. Her nose was flat, her complexion swarthy, and her 
mouth so horrible that it frightened you to look at it. She was fifteen feet high, and measured 
thirty round her body. "Unfortunate wretches!" said she to them; "what brought ye hither? 
Know ye not this is the Ogre's Castle, and that all three of you would scarcely suffice for his 
breakfast? But I am more good-natured than my husband. Come in; I will not eat you all at 
once. You shall have the consolation of living two or three days longer." When they heard the 
Ogress say this, they ran away, hoping to escape; but one of her strides was equal to fifty of 
theirs. She ran after and caught them, one by the hair, the others by the nape of the neck; and 
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putting them under her arm took them into the castle, and threw them all three into the 
cellar, which was full of toads and adders, and strewed with the bones of those the Ogres had 
eaten. 
As the Ogress fancied eating Finette immediately, she went to fetch some vinegar, oil, and 
salt, to make her into a salad, but hearing the Ogre coming, and thinking that the Princesses 
were so white and delicate that she should like to eat them all herself, she popped them 
quickly under a large tub, out of which they could only look through a hole. 
The Ogre was six times as tall as his wife; when he spoke, the building shook, and when he 
coughed it was like peals of thunder. He had but one great filthy eye; his hair stood all on 
end; he leaned on a huge log of wood which he used for a cane. He had a covered basket in 
his hand, out of which he pulled fifteen little children he had stolen on the road, and 
swallowed them like fifteen new-laid eggs. When the Princesses saw him they trembled 
under the tub. They were afraid to cry, lest they should be heard, but they whispered to each 
other: "He will eat us all alive; is there no way to save ourselves?" 
The Ogre said to his wife, "Look ye, I smell fresh meat; give it me." "That's good!" said the 
Ogress; "thou dost always fancy thou smellest fresh meat; it is thy sheep which have just 
passed by." "Oh! I am not mistaken," said the Ogre, "I smell fresh meat for certain, and I 
shall hunt everywhere for it." "Hunt," said she; "thou wilt find nothing." "If I do find it, and 
thou hast hidden it from me," replied the Ogre, "I will cut thy head off, and make a ball of it." 
She was frightened at this threat, and said, "Be not angry, my dear little Ogre, I will tell thee 
the truth. Three young girls came here to-day, and I have got them safe, but it would be a 
pity to eat them, for they know how to do everything; I am old and want rest; thou seest our 
fine house is very dirty, that our bread is badly made, and thy soup now rarely pleases thee; 
that I myself donot appear so handsome in thine eyes since I have worked so hard. These 
girls will be my servants. I pray thee do not eat them just now; if thou shouldst fancy one of 
them some other day, they will be always in thy power." 
The Ogre was very reluctant to promise that he would not eat them immediately. "Let me 
alone," said he, "I will only eat two of them." "No, thou shalt not eat them." "Well then, I will 
only eat the smallest;" and she replied, "No, thou shalt not touch one of them." At last, after 
much contention, he promised he would not eat them. She thought to herself, "When he goes 
hunting I will eat them, and tell him they have made their escape." 
The Ogre came out of the cellar, and told his wife to bring the girls before him. The poor 
Princesses were almost dead with fright; the Ogress tried to comfort them. When they were 
brought before the Ogre, he asked them what they could do. They answered, they could 
sweep, and sew, and spin, exceedingly well; that they could make ragouts so delicious that 
you would eat even the plates; and as for bread, cakes, and patties, people had been wont to 
send to them for a thousand leagues round. The Ogre was dainty. "Aha!" said he, "set these 
good housewives to work immediately; but," said he to Finette, "after you have lighted the 
fire, how do you know when the oven is hot enough?" "My Lord," she replied, "I throw some 
butter into it, and then taste it with my tongue." "Very well," said he; "light the oven fire, 
then." The oven was as big as a stable, for the Ogre and Ogress ate more bread than would 
feed two armies. The Princess made a terrific fire. The oven was as hot as a furnace; and the 
Ogre, who was present, waiting for his new bread, ate in the meanwhile a hundred lambs and 
a hundred little sucking-pigs. Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit were making the dough. 
"Well," said the great Ogre, "is the oven hot?" "You shall see, my Lord," said Finette. She 
threw in a thousand pounds of butter, and then said to him, "It should be tasted with the 
tongue, but I am too short to reach it." "I am tall enough," said the Ogre; and stooping, he 
thrust his body so far into the oven that he could not recover himself, and so all the flesh was 
burnt off his bones. When the Ogress came to the oven she was astounded to find her 
husband a mountain of cinders! 
Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit, who saw she was very much distressed, consoled her to 
the best of their ability, but they feared her grief would too soon subside, and, her appetite 
returning, she would make a salad of them as she was about to do before. They said to her, 
"Take comfort, Madam, you will find some king or some marquis who will be delighted to 
marry you." She smiled a little, showing her teeth longer than one's fingers. 
When they saw her in such a good humour, Finette said to her, "If you would throw off these 
horrible bear-skins in which you wrap yourself, and follow the fashion, we will dress your 
hair to perfection, and you will look like a star." "Come," said the Ogress, "let us see what 
thou wouldst do; but assure thyself that if there be any ladies handsomer than me, I will 
make minced-meat of thee!" Upon this the three Princesses took off her cap, and began 
combing and curling her hair, amusing her all the while with their chatter. Finette then 
taking a hatchet, struck her from behind such a blow that her head was taken clean from her 
shoulders. 
Never was there such delight! The three Princesses mounted upon the roof of the mansion to 
amuse themselves by ringing the golden bells. They ran into all the apartments, which were 
of pearls and diamonds, and the furniture so costly, that they were ready to die with pleasure. 
They laughed, they sang, they wanted for nothing. There were corn, sweetmeats, fruit, and 
dolls, in abundance. Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit went to sleep in beds of brocade and 
velvet, and said to each other, "Behold us richer than our father was when he was in 
possession of his kingdom; but we want to be married, and nobody will venture here. This 
mansion no doubt is considered a cut-throat place, for people are not aware of the death of 
the Ogre and Ogress. We must go to the nearest city, and show ourselves in our fine dresses, 
and we shall soon find some honest bankers who will be very glad to marry Princesses." As 
soon as they were dressed, they told Finette they were going to take a walk; that she must 
stay at home and cook, and wash and clean the house, so that on their return they might find 
everything as it should be: if not, she should be beaten within an inch of her life! Poor 
Finette, whose heart was full of grief, remained alone in the house, sweeping, cleaning, 
washing, without resting, and crying all the time. "How unfortunate," she said, "that I should 
have disobeyed my godmother! All sorts of evils happen to me; my sisters have stolen my 
costly dresses, and array themselves in my ornaments. But for me, the Ogre and his wife 
would be alive and well at this moment. How have I benefited by destroying them?" When 
she had said this, she sobbed till she was almost choked. Shortly afterwards her sisters 
returned laden with Portugal oranges, preserves, and sugar. "Ah!" said they to her, "what a 
splendid ball we have been to! How it was crowded! The King's son was amongst the 
dancers; we have had a thousand compliments paid to us. Come, take our shoes off and clean 
them, as it is your business to do." Finette obeyed them, and if by accident she let a word 
drop in the way of complaint, they flew at her, and beat her almost to death. 
The next day they went out again, and returned with an account of new wonders. One 
evening that Finette was sitting in the chimney corner on a heap of cinders, not knowing 
what to do, she examined the cracks in the chimney, and found in one of them a little key so 
old and so dirty that she had the greatest trouble in cleaning it. When she had done so she 
found it was made of gold, and presuming that a golden key ought to open some beautiful 
little box, she ran all over the mansion trying it in all the locks, and at length found it fitted 
that of a casket which was a masterpiece of art. She opened it, and found it full of clothes, 
diamonds, lace, linen, and ribands, worth immense sums of money. She said not a word of 
her good luck to her sisters, but waited impatiently for their going out the next day. As soon 
as they were out of sight she dressed and adorned herself, till she looked more beautiful than 
the sun and moon together. 
Thus arrayed, she went to the ball where her sisters were dancing, and though she had no 
mask on,[2] she was so changed for the better that they did not know her. As soon as she 
appeared a murmur arose throughout the assembly; some were full of admiration, others of 
jealousy. She was asked to dance, and surpassed all the other ladies in grace as much as she 
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did in beauty. The mistress of the mansion came to her, and making her a profound curtsy, 
requested to know her name, that she might always remember with pleasure the appellation 
of such a marvellously beautiful person. She replied civilly that her name was Cendron. 
There was not a lover who did not leave his mistress for Cendron: not a poet who did not 
make verses on Cendron. Never did a little name make so much noise in so short a time. The 
echoes repeated nothing but the praises of Cendron. People had not eyes enough to gaze 
upon her, nor tongues enough to extol her. 
Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit, who had previously created a great sensation wherever 
they appeared, observing the reception accorded to this new comer, were ready to burst with 
spite: but Finette extricated herself from all ill-consequences with the best grace in the 
world. Her manners appeared those of one born to command.Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit, who never saw their sister but with her face begrimed 
with soot from the chimney, and altogether as dirty as a dog, had so completely lost all idea 
of her beauty that they did not recognise her in the least. They paid their court to Cendron, 
as well as the rest. As soon as she saw the ball was nearly over, she hastened away, returned 
home, undressed herself quickly, and put on her old rags. When her sisters arrived, "Ah! 
Finette," said they to her, "we have just seen a young princess who is perfectly charming. She 
is not a young ape such as thou art, she is as white as snow, with a richer crimson than the 
roses; her teeth are pearls, her lips coral; she had a gown on that must have weighed more 
than a thousand pounds. It was all gold and diamonds. How beautiful! how amiable she is!" 
Finette said in a low voice, "So was I; so was I." "What dost thou mutter there?" said her 
sisters. She repeated in a still lower tone, "So was I; so was I." This little game was played for 
some time. There was scarcely a day that Finette did not appear in a new dress; for the casket 
was a fairy one, and the more you took out of it the more there came in, and everything so 
highly fashionable, that all the ladies dressed themselves in imitation of Finette. 
One evening that Finette had danced more than usual, and had delayed her departure to a 
later hour, being anxious to make up for lost time and get home a little before her sisters, she 
walked so fast that she lost one of her slippers, which was of red velvet, embroidered with 
pearls. She tried to find it in the road, but the night was so dark, her search was in vain, and 
she entered the house one foot shod and the other not. The next day, Prince Chéri, the King's 
eldest son, going out hunting, found Finette's slipper. He had it picked up, examined it, 
admired its diminutive size and elegance, turned it over and over, kissed it, took care of it 
and carried it home with him. From that day he would eat nothing, he became thin, and 
altered visibly; was yellow as a quince, melancholy, depressed. The King and Queen, who 
loved him to distraction, sent in every direction for the choicest game and the best 
sweetmeats. They were less than nothing to him. He looked at it all without uttering a word 
in reply to his mother when she spoke to him. They sent everywhere for the first physicians, 
even as far as Paris, and Montpellier.[3] When they arrived they saw the Prince, and after 
watching him for three days and three nights without once losing sight of him, they came to 
the conclusion that he was in love, and that he would die if they did not find the only remedy 
for him. The Queen who doted on her son, was nearly dissolved in tears, so great was her 
grief at not being able to discover the object of his love, that he might marry her. She 
brought into his apartment the most beautiful ladies she could find. He would not 
condescend to look at them. At length she said to him, one day, "My dear son, thou wilt kill 
me with grief, for thou lovest and concealest from us thy passion. Tell us whom thou lovest, 
and we will give her to thee, though she should only be a simple shepherdess." The Prince 
taking courage from the promises of the Queen, drew the slipper from under his bolster, and 
showing it to her, said, "Behold, Madam, the cause of my malady. I found this little, soft 
delicate, pretty slipper as I went out to hunt, and I will never marry any one but the woman 
who can wear it." "Well, my son," said the queen, "do not afflict yourself, we will have her 
sought for." She hastened to the King with this intelligence. He was very much surprised, 
and ordered immediately that a proclamation should be made with sound of drum and 
trumpet, that all single women should come and try on the slipper, and that she whom it 
fitted should marry the Prince. On hearing this every one washed their feet with all sorts of 
waters, pastes and pommades, some ladies actually had them peeled, and others starved 
themselves in order to make their feet smaller and prettier. 
They went in crowds to try on the slipper, but not one of them could get it on, and the more 
they came in vain, the greater was the Prince's affliction. Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit 
dressed themselves one day so superbly, that they were astonishing to look at. "Where can 
you be going to?" asked Finette. "We are going to the great city," replied they, "where the 
King and Queen reside, to try on the slipper the King's son has found; for if it should fit 
either of us, the Prince will marry her, and then my sister or I will be a queen." "And why 
should not I go?" said Finette. "Thou art a pretty simpleton, truly," said they; "go, go, and 
water our cabbages; thou art fit for nothing better." 
Finette thought directly she would put on her finest clothes, and go and take her chance with 
the rest, for she had a slight suspicion that she should be successful. What troubled her was, 
that she did not know her way; for the ball at which she had danced was not given in the 
great city. She dressed herself magnificently; her gown was of blue satin, covered with stars 
in diamonds. She had a sun of them in her hair, and a full moon on her back; and all these 
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jewels shone so brightly, that one couldn't look at her without winking. When she opened 
the door to go out, she was much surprised to see the pretty Spanish horse which had carried 
her to her godmother's. She patted him, and said, "You are most welcome, my little hobby. I 
am much obliged to my godmother, Merluche." He knelt down, and she mounted upon him 
like a nymph: he was all covered with golden bells and ribands. His housings and bridle were 
priceless, and Finette was thirty times more beautiful than fair Helen of Troy. 
The Spanish horse galloped off gaily, his bells went "ting, ting, ting." Fleur d'Amour and 
Belle-de-Nuit, hearing the sound of them, turned round and saw her coming; but what was 
their astonishment at that moment? They knew her to be both Finette and Cendron. They 
were very much splashed, their fine dresses draggled with mud. "Sister!" cried Fleur d'Amour 
to Belle-de-Nuit, "I protest here is Finette Cendron." The other echoed the cry; and Finette 
passing close to them, her horse splashed them all over, making them a mass of mud. Finette 
laughed at them, and said, "Your Highnesses, Cendron[4] despises you as you deserve;" then 
passing them like a shot, she disappeared. Belle-de-Nuit and Fleur d'Amour looked at each 
other. "Are we dreaming?" said they; "who could have supplied Finette with clothes and a 
horse? what miracle is this? Good fortune attends her; she will put on the slipper, and we 
shall have made a long journey in vain." 
Whilst they were distressing themselves, Finette arrived at the palace. The moment she 
appeared everybody thought she was a Queen. The guards presented arms, the drums beat, 
and the trumpets sounded a flourish; all the gates were flung open, and those who had seen 
her at the ball preceded her, crying, "Room! room! for the beautiful Cendron, the wonder of 
the world!" She entered in this state the apartment of the dying Prince. He cast his eyes on 
her, and enraptured at her sight, wished fervently that her foot might be small enough for 
her to wear the slipper. She put it on instantly, and produced its fellow which she had 
brought with her on purpose. Shouts immediately arose of "Long live the Princess Chérie, 
long live the Princess who will be our Queen!" The Prince arose from his couch, and 
advanced to kiss her hand; she found he was handsome and very intelligent. He paid her a 
thousand delicate attentions. The King and Queen were informed of the event. They came in 
all haste, and the Queen took Finette in her arms, called her her daughter, her darling,her 
little Queen! and made her some magnificent presents, to which the liberal King added many 
more. They fired the guns; violins, bagpipes, every sort of musical instrument was set 
playing; nothing was talked of but dancing and rejoicing. The King, the Queen, and the 
Prince, begged Cendron to consent to the marriage taking place immediately. "No," said she, 
"I must first tell you my history," which she did in a few words. When they found that she 
was a Princess born, there was another burst of joy, which was almost the death of them; but 
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when she told them the names of the King and Queen, her father and mother, they 
recognised them as the sovereigns whose dominions they had conquered. They imparted this 
fact to Finette, and she immediately vowed she would not consent to marry the Prince until 
they had restored the estates of her father. They promised to do so, for they had upwards of a 
hundred kingdoms, and one more or less was not worth talking about. 
In the meanwhile Belle-de-Nuit and Fleur d'Amour arrived at the palace. The first news that 
greeted them was that Cendron had put on the slipper. They knew not what to do or to say; 
they determined to go back again without seeing her; but when she heard they were there, 
she insisted they should come in, and instead of frowning on them and punishing them as 
they deserved, she rose and advanced to meet them, embraced them tenderly, and then 
presented them to the Queen, saying to her, "Madam, these are my sisters; they are very 
amiable, and I request you will love them." They were so confused at the kindness of Finette, 
that they could not utter a word. She promised them they should return to their own 
kingdom, which the Prince would restore to their family. At these words they threw 
themselves on their knees before her, weeping for joy. 
The nuptials were the most splendid that ever were seen. Finette wrote to her godmother 
and put the letter, accompanied with valuable presents, on the back of the pretty Spanish 
horse, begging her to seek the King and Queen, to tell them their good fortune, and that they 
had nothing to do but return to their kingdom. The Fairy Merluche acquitted herself very 
graciously of this commission. The father and mother of Finette were repossessed of their 
estates, and her sisters became afterwards queens as well as herself. 
Revenged on the ungrateful wouldst thou be, 
 Of young Finette pursue the policy. 
 Fresh favours on the undeserving heap; 
 Each benefit inflicts a wound most deep, 
 Cutting the conscious bosom to the core. 
 Finette's proud, selfish sisters suffer'd more, 
 When by her generous kindness overpower'd, 
 Than if by Ogres they had been devour'd. 
 From her example then this lesson learn, 
 And good for evil nobly still return; 
 Whate'er the wrong that may thy wrath awake, 
 No grander vengeance for it could'st thou take. 
1. The fashion of patching the face with small pieces of court-plaister, cut sometimes 
into the most fantastic shapes, was carried to the greatest extreme at the close of the 
seventeenth and commencement of the eighteenth centuries. 
2. The mask was a fashionable article of female costume in France, during the reign of 
Louis XIV., and was not entirely discarded in England before the eighteenth century. 
3. The School of Medicine of Montpellier is one of the most eminent in Europe, and 
owes its establishment to the Moorish physicians driven out of Spain by the 
Christians, A.D. 1186, and received here by the lords of Montpellier. From its first 
establishment, it has been much resorted to; and many of the most celebrated French 
physicians and surgeons received their education there. 
4. Cendrillon in the French; but whether a mistake, or used as a diminutive for "little 
Cendron," it is curious when we consider the similitude between this part of the story 
and the Cendrillon of Persault. 
 
	cendrillon ou la petite pantoufle de verre 
	CINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER 
	la gatta cenerentola 
	THE CAT CINDERELLA 
	THE CINDER-MAID 
	aschenputtel 
	ASH GIRL 
	FINETTE CENDRONCinderella heard the clock strike the three quarters 
past eleven; she at once made a profound curtsey to the company, and left as quickly as she 
could. As soon as she had reached home, she went to find her godmother, and after having 
thanked her, said she much wished to go to the ball again next day, because the King's son 
had invited her. She was telling her godmother all that had passed at the ball, when the two 
sisters knocked at the door. Cinderella went and opened it. "How late you are!" said she to 
them, yawning, rubbing her eyes, and then stretching herself as if she had but just awoke, 
although she had had no inclination to sleep since she parted from them. "If you had been at 
the ball," said one of her sisters to her, "you would not have been weary of it. There came to 
it the most beautiful princess—the most beautiful that ever was seen; she paid us many 
attentions, and gave us oranges and citrons." Cinderella was beside herself with delight. She 
asked them the name of the Princess, but they replied that nobody knew her, that the King's 
son was much puzzled about it, and that he would give everything in the world to know who 
she was. Cinderella smiled, and said, "She was very lovely, then? How fortunate you are! 
Could not I get a sight of her? Alas! Miss Javotte, lend me the yellow gown you wear every 
day." 
"Truly," said Miss Javotte, "I like that! Lend one's gown to a dirty Cindertail like you! I 
should be mad indeed!" Cinderella fully expected this refusal, and was rejoiced at it, for she 
would not have known what to do if her sister had lent her the gown. 
The next day the sisters went again to the ball, and Cinderella also, but still more splendidly 
dressed than before. The King's son never left her side, or ceased saying tender things to her. 
Cinderella found the evening pass very pleasantly, and forgot her godmother's warning, so 
that she heard the clock begin to strike twelve while still thinking that it was not yet eleven. 
She rose and fled as lightly as a fawn. The Prince followed her, but could not overtake her. 
She dropped one of her glass slippers, which the Prince carefully picked up. Cinderella 
reached home almost breathless, without coach or footmen, and in her shabby clothes, with 
nothing remaining of her finery but one of her little slippers, the fellow of that which she 
had dropped. The guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a Princess pass 
out; they answered that they had seen no one pass but a poorly-dressed girl, who had more 
the appearance of a peasant than of a lady. When the two sisters returned from the ball, 
Cinderella asked them if they had been as much entertained as before, and if the beautiful 
lady had been present. They said yes, but that she had fled as soon as it had struck twelve, 
and in such haste, that she had dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the 
world; that the King's son had picked it up, and had done nothing but gaze upon it during 
the remainder of the evening; and that, undoubtedly, he was very much in love with the 
beautiful person to whom the little slipper belonged. They spoke the truth; for a few days 
afterwards the King's son caused it to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet that he would 
marry her whose foot would exactly fit the slipper. They began by trying it on the princesses, 
then on the duchesses, and so on throughout the Court; but in vain. It was taken to the two 
sisters, who did their utmost to force one of their feet into the slipper, but they could not 
manage to do so. Cinderella, who was looking on, and who recognised the slipper, said 
laughingly, "Let me see if it will not fit me." Her sisters began to laugh and ridicule her. The 
gentleman of the Court who had been entrusted to try the slipper, having looked attentively 
at Cinderella, and seeing that she was very beautiful, said that it was only fair that her 
request should be granted, as he had received orders to try the slipper on all maidens, 
without exception. He made Cinderella sit down, and putting the slipper to her little foot, he 
saw it slip on easily and fit like wax. Great was the astonishment of the two sisters, but it was 
still greater when Cinderella took the other little slipper out of her pocket and put it on her 
other foot. At that moment the godmother appeared, who giving a tap with her wand to 
Cinderella's clothes, they became still more magnificent than those she had worn before. 
The two sisters then recognised in her the beautiful person they had seen at the ball. They 
threw themselves at her feet to beg for forgiveness for all the ill-treatment she had suffered 
from them. Cinderella raised and embraced them, said that she forgave them with all her 
heart, and begged them to love her dearly for the future. She was conducted, dressed as she 
was, to the young Prince. He found her more charming than ever, and a few days afterwards 
he married her. Cinderella, who was as kind as she was beautiful, gave her sisters apartments 
in the palace, and married them the very same day to two great lords of the Court. 
Beauty in woman is a treasure rare 
Which we are never weary of admiring; 
But a sweet temper is a gift more fair 
And better worth the youthful maid's desiring. 
That was the boon bestowed on Cinderella 
By her wise godmother—her truest glory. 
The rest was "nought but leather and prunella." 
Such is the moral of this little story— 
Beauties, that charm, become you more than dress, 
And win a heart with far greater facility. 
In short, in all things to ensure success, 
The real Fairy Gift is amiability! 
 
Talent, courage, wit, and worth, 
Are rare gifts to own on earth; 
But if you want to thrive at Court— 
So, at least, the wise report— 
You will find you need some others, 
Such as godfathers or mothers. 
 
la gatta cenerentola 
THE CAT CINDERELLA 
by Giambattista Basile 
 
AT THIS TALE OF THE FLEA ALL THE LISTENERS SEEMED LIKE STATUES, AND PASSED A VERDICT OF 
IMBECILITY ON THE FOOLISH KING WHO FOR A SILLY TRIFLE HAD EXPOSED THE HAPPINESS OF HIS OWN 
FLESH AND BLOOD AND THE SUCCESSION OF THE STATE TO SUCH RISK. WHEN ALL HAD STOPPED THEIR 
MOUTHS, ANTONELLA UNSTOPPED HERS IN THE FOLLOWING WAY: 
IN the sea of Malice, Envy frequently gets out of her depth; and whilst she is expecting to see 
another drowned, she is either drowned herself, or is dashed against a rock, as happened to 
some envious girls, about whom I will tell you a story. 
 
THERE once lived a prince, who was a widower, but who had a daughter, so dear to him that 
he saw with no other eyes than hers; and he kept a governess for her, who taught her 
chain-work, and knitting, and to make point-lace, and showed her such affection as no words 
can tell. But after a time the father married again, and took a wicked jade for his wife, who 
soon conceived a violent dislike to her stepdaughter; and all day long she made sour looks, 
wry faces and fierce eyes at her, till the poor child was beside herself with terror, and was for 
ever bewailing to her governess the bad treatment she received from her stepmother, saying 
to her, "O heavens, that you had been my mother, you who show me so much kindness and 
affection!" And she went on thus, sighing and singing to this tune, till at last the governess, 
having a wasp put in her ear and blinded by the Mazzamauriello[2], said to her one day, "If 
you will do as this foolish head of mine advises, I shall be mother to you, and you will be as 
dear to me as the apple of my eye." 
She was going on to say more, when Zezolla[3] (for that was the girl's name) said, "Pardon me 
if I stop the word upon your tongue. I know you wish me well, therefore hush! enough—only 
show me the way to get out of my trouble; do you write, and I will sub-scribe." 
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https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Pentamerone,_or_The_Story_of_Stories/Cenerentola#cite_note-3"Well then," answered the governess, "open your ears and listen, and you will get bread as 
white as the flowers[4]. When your father goes out, ask your stepmother to give you one of the 
old dresses that are in the large chest in the closet, in order to save the one you have on. 
Then she, who would like of all things to see you go in rags and tatters, will open the chest, 
and say, 'Hold up the lid!' and whilst you are holding it up, and she is rummaging about 
inside, let it fall with a bang, so as to break her neck. When this is done, as you know well 
enough that your father would even coin false money to please you, do you entreat him when 
he is caressing you to take me to wife; for then, bless your stars! you shall be the mistress of 
my life." 
When Zezolla heard this, every hour seemed to her a thousand years until she had done all 
that her governess had advised; and as soon as the mourning for the stepmother's death was 
ended, she began to feel her father's pulse, and to entreat him to marry the governess. At 
first the prince took it as a joke, but Zezolla went on shooting so long past the mark, that at 
length she hit it, and he gave way to her entreaties. So he took Carmosina (that was the name 
of the governess) to wife, and gave a great feast at the wedding. 
Now whilst the young folks were dancing, and Zezolla was standing at a window of her 
house, a dove came flying and perched upon a wall, and said to her, "Whenever you desire 
anything, send the request to the Dove of the Fairies in the island of Sardinia, and you will 
instantly have what you wish." 
For five or six days the new stepmother overwhelmed Zezolla with caresses, seating her at 
the best place at table, giving her the choicest morsels to eat, and clothing her in the richest 
apparel. But ere long, forgetting entirely the good service she had received, (woe to him who 
has a bad master!) she began to bring forward six daughters of her own, whom she had until 
then kept concealed; and she praised them so much, and talked her husband over in such a 
manner, that at last the stepdaughters engrossed all his favour, and the thought of his own 
child went entirely from his heart: in short, it fared so ill with the poor girl, bad today and 
worse tomorrow, that she was at last brought down from the royal chamber to the kitchen, 
from the canopy of state to the hearth, from splendid apparel of silks and gold to dishclouts, 
from the sceptre to the spit. And not only was her condition changed, but even her name; for 
instead of Zezolla, she was now called Cenerentola. 
It happened that the prince had occasion to go to Sardinia upon affairs of state; and calling 
the six stepdaughters,—Imperia, Calamita, Fiorella, Diamante, Colombina, Pascarella,—he 
asked them one by one what they would like him to bring them on his return. Then one 
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wished for splendid dresses, another to have head-ornaments, another rouge for the face, 
another toys and trinkets; in short, one wished for this thing and another for that. At last the 
prince said to his own daughter, as if in mockery, "And what would you have, 
child?"—"Nothing, father," she replied, "but that you commend me to the Dove of the 
Fairies, and bid her send me something; and if you forget my request, may you be unable to 
stir either backwards or forwards: so remember what I tell you, for it will fare with you 
accordingly." 
Then the prince went his way, and transacted his affairs in Sardinia, and procured all the 
things which his stepdaughters had asked for; but poor Zezolla went quite out of his 
thoughts. And embarking on board a ship, he set sail to return; but the ship could not get out 
of the harbour; there it stuck fast, just as if held back by a sea-lamprey[5]. The captain of the 
ship, who was almost in despair and fairly tired out, laid himself down to sleep; and in his 
dream he saw a fairy, who said to him, "Know you the reason why you cannot work the ship 
out of port? it is because the prince who is on board with you has broken his promise to his 
daughter, remembering every one except his own blood." 
Then the captain awoke, and told his dream to the prince, who, in shame and confusion at 
the breach of his promise, went to the Grotto of the Fairies, and commending his daughter 
to them, asked them to send her something. And behold there stepped forth from the grotto 
a beautiful maiden, who told him that she thanked his daughter for her kind remembrance, 
and bade him tell her to be merry and of good heart, out of love to her. And thereupon she 
gave him a date-tree, a hoe and a little bucket all of gold, and a silken napkin; adding, that 
the one was to hoe with and the other to water the plant. 
The prince, marvelling at this present, took leave of the fairy and returned to his own 
country. And when he had given the stepdaughters all the things they had desired, he at last 
gave his own daughter the gift which the fairy had sent her. Then Zezolla, out of her wits 
with joy, took the date-tree and planted it in a pretty flowerpot, hoed the earth around it, 
watered it, and wiped its leaves morning and evening with the silken napkin; so that in a few 
days it had grown as tall as a woman, and out of it came a fairy, who said to Zezolla, "What 
do you wish for?" And Zezolla replied, that she wished sometimes to leave the house without 
her sisters' knowledge. The fairy answered, "Whenever you desire this, come to the 
flowerpot and say, 
' 
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My little Date-tree, my golden tree, 
 With a golden hoe I have hoed thee. 
 With a golden can I have water'd thee, 
 With a silken cloth I have wiped thee dry. 
 Now strip thee, and dress me speedily!' 
And when you wish to undress, change the last verse, and say, 'Strip me, and dress thee.'" 
When the time for the feast was come, and the stepmother's daughters appeared, drest out so 
fine, all ribbands and flowers, and slippers and shoes, sweet smells and bells, and roses and 
posies, Zezolla ran quickly to the flowerpot; and no sooner had she repeated the words which 
the fairy had told her, than she saw herself arrayed like a queen, seated upon a palfrey, and 
attended by twelve smart pages all drest in their best. Then she went to the ball where the 
sisters had gone, whose mouths watered with envy of the beauty of this graceful dove. 
Now as luck would have it the king himself came to that same place, who, as soon as he saw 
the marvellous beauty of Zezolla, stood magic-bound with amazement, and ordered a trusty 
servant to find out who that beautiful creature was, and where she lived. So the servant 
followed in her footsteps; but Zezolla, observing the trick, threw on the ground a handful of 
crown-pieces, which she had made the date-tree give her for this purpose. Then the servant 
lighted the lantern, and in his eagerness to fill his pockets with the crown-pieces he forgot to 
follow the palfrey. In the meantime Zezolla hastened home, and undressed herself as the 
fairy had told her. Soon afterwards the wicked sisters returned, and, in order to vex her and 
excite her envy, they told her of all kinds of beautiful things that they had seen. 
Meanwhile the servant came back to the king, and told him what had happened with the 
crown-pieces; whereupon the king flew into a great rage, telling him that for a few paltry 
farthings he had sold his pleasure, and commanding him at all events to find out at the next 
feast who the beautiful maiden was, and where this pretty bird had its nest. 
When the next feast was come, the sisters all went to it decked out smartly, leaving poor 
Zezolla at home on the hearth. Then Zezolla ran quickly to the date-tree, and repeated the 
words as before; and instantly there appeared a number of damsels,one with a looking-glass, 
another with a bottle of pumpkin-water, another with the curling-irons, another with a 
comb, another with pins, another with dresses, and another with capes and collars. And 
decking her out till she looked as beautiful as a sun, they placed her in a coach drawn by six 
horses, attended by footmen and pages in livery. And no sooner did she appear in the room 
where the former feast was held, than the hearts of the sisters were filled with amazement, 
and the breast of the king with fire. 
When Zezolla went away again, the servant followed in her footsteps as before; but, in order 
not to be caught, she threw down a handful of pearls and jewels; and the good fellow, seeing 
that they were not things to lose, stayed to pick them up. So Zezolla had time to slip home 
and take off her fine dress as before. 
Meanwhile the servant returned slowly to the king, who exclaimed when he saw him, "By the 
souls of my ancestors, if you don't find out who she is, I'll give you a sound thrashing, and, 
what's more, I'll give you as many kicks as you have hairs in that beard of thine!" 
When the next feast was held, and the sisters had gone to it, Zezolla went to the date-tree, 
and repeating the words of the charm, in an instant she was splendidly arrayed, and seated in 
a coach of gold, with ever so many servants around, so that she looked just like a queen. The 
envy of the sisters was excited as before; and when she left the room, the king's servant kept 
close[6] to the coach. But Zezolla, seeing that the man kept running at her side, cried, 
"Coachman, drive on!" and in a trice the coach set off at such a rattling pace, that Zezolla 
lost one of her slippers, the prettiest thing that ever was seen. The servant, being unable to 
overtake the coach, which flew like a bird, picked up the slipper, and carrying it to the king 
told him all that had happened. Whereupon the king, taking it in his hand, said, "If the 
basement indeed is so beautiful, what must the building be? O beauteous candlestick, where 
is the candle that consumes me? O tripod of the bright boiler in which life simmers! O 
beautiful cork, fastened to the angling-line of Love, with which he has caught my soul! Lo, I 
embrace you, I press you to my heart; and if I cannot reach the plant, I adore at least the 
roots; if I cannot possess the capital of the column, I kiss the base. You who until now were 
the prison of a white foot, are now the fetter of an unhappy heart." 
So saying he called his secretary, and commanded the trumpeter to sound a "Too, too!" and 
make proclamation, that all the women of that country should come to a feast and banquet 
which he had taken it into his head to give. And when the appointed day was come, heyday, 
what a feasting and frolic was there! from whence in the world came all the pies and pasties? 
whence the stews and ragouts? whence the maccaroni and sweetmeats? In short there was 
enough to feed a whole army. 
And when the women were all assembled, noble and ignoble, rich and poor, old and young, 
beautiful and ugly, and when all was ready, the king tried the slipper first on one and then on 
another of the guests, to see whom it should fit to a hair, and to be able thus to discover by 
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the form of the slipper the maiden of whom he was in search; but not finding one foot which 
would fit it exactly, he began to despair. However, having ordered silence, he said, "Come 
again tomorrow, and eat a bit of dinner with me; and as you love me, don't leave a single girl 
or woman at home, be she who she may." Then the prince said, "I have indeed another 
daughter at home; but she is always on the hearth, and is such a graceless simpleton that she 
is unworthy to sit down to eat at your table." But the king said, "Let her be the very first on 
the list, for so I will." 
So all the guests departed, and the next day they assembled again, and with Carmosina's 
daughters came Zezolla. The instant the king saw her, he imagined it was she whom he 
longed to find; but this he kept to himself. And when the feasting was ended, came the trial 
of the slipper; but as soon as ever it approached Zezolla's foot, it darted of itself to the foot of 
that painted egg[7] of Venus, as the iron flies to the magnet; at the sight of which the king ran 
to her, and made a press for her with his arms, and seating her under the royal canopy he set 
the crown upon her head; whereupon all made their obeisance and homage to her as their 
queen. 
When the sisters beheld this, they were full of spite and rage; and not having patience to look 
upon this object of their hatred, they slipped quietly away on tiptoe, and went home to their 
mother, confessing in spite of themselves that 
"He is a madman who resists the stars." 
 
 
 
 
 
It is impossible to conceive how much the good fortune of Zezolla touched the heart of every 
one present; but greatly as they praised the liberality of Heaven to the poor girl, they 
considered the punishment of Carmosina's daughters far too trifling; for there is no 
punishment which pride does not deserve, no misfortune that envy does not merit. But in the 
midst of all the babbling about this story, the Prince Taddeo placed the forefinger of his right 
hand across his lips, and made a sign for silence; whereupon all stopped in an instant, as if 
they had seen a wolf; or like a schoolboy, who in the height of the fun sees the master 
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unexpectedly appear. Then the Prince made a sign to Ciulla to commence her story, and she 
thus began. 
1. The title of this story is 'La Gatta Cenerentola,'—Puss on the hearth. 
2. A wicked little imp. 
3. Lucretia. 
4. i.e. 'you shall have your wish.' 
5. Remora.—Set Pliny, Nat. Hist. ix. 25. 
6. The Neapolitan is very pretty—se cosette a ffilo duppio. 
7. Cuccopinto—applied to anything beautiful—from the painted eggs at Easter. 
 
THE CINDER-MAID 
by Joseph Jacobs 
 
ONCE upon a time, though it was not in my time or in your time, or in anybody else's time, 
there was a great King who had an only son, the Prince and Heir who was about to come of 
age. So the King sent round a herald who should blow his trumpet at every four corners 
where two roads met. And when the people came together he would call out, "O yes, O yes, 
O yes, know ye that His Grace the King will give on Monday sennight"—that meant seven 
nights or a week after—"a Royal Ball to which all maidens of noble birth are hereby 
summoned; and be it furthermore known unto you that at this ball his Highness the Prince 
will select unto himself a lady that shall be his bride and our future Queen. God save the 
King." 
Now there was among the nobles of the King's Court one who had married twice, and by the 
first marriage he had but one daughter, and as she was growing up her father thought that 
she ought to have some one to look after her. So he married again, a lady with two daughters, 
and his new wife, instead of caring for his daughter, thought only of her own and favoured 
them in every way. She would give them beautiful dresses but none to her step-daughter who 
had only to wear the cast-off clothes of the other two. The noble's daughter was set to do all 
the drudgery of the house, to attend the kitchen fire, and had naught to sleep on but the heap 
of cinders raked out in the scullery; and that is why they called her Cinder-Maid. And no one 
took pity on her and she would go and weep at her mother's grave where she had planted a 
hazel tree, under which she sat. 
You can imagine how excited they all were when they heard the King's proclamation called 
out by the herald. "What shall we wear, mother; what shall we wear?" cried out the two 
daughters, and they all began talking about which dressshould suit the one and what dress 
should suit the other, but when the father suggested that Cinder-Maid should also have a 
dress they all cried out: "What, Cinder-Maid going to the King's Ball; why, look at her, she 
would only disgrace us all." And so her father held his peace. 
Now when the night came for the Royal Ball Cinder-Maid had to help the two sisters to dress 
in their fine dresses and saw them drive off in the carriage with her father and their mother. 
But she went to her own mother's grave and sat beneath the hazel tree and wept and cried 
out: 
 
 
"Tree o'mine, O tree o'me, 
 With my tears I've watered thee; 
 Make me a lady fair to see, 
 Dress me as splendid as can be." 
 
 And with that the little bird on the tree called out to her, 
 
 
"Cinder-Maid, Cinder-Maid, shake the tree, 
 Open the first nut that you see." 
 
 So Cinder-Maid shook the tree and the first nut that fell she took up and opened, and what 
do you think she saw?—a beautiful silk dress blue as the heavens, all embroidered with stars, 
and two little lovely shoon made of shining copper. And when she had dressed herself the 
hazel tree opened and from it came a coach all made of copper with four milk-white horses, 
with coachman and footmen all complete. And as she drove away the little bird called out to 
her: 
"Be home, be home ere mid-o'night 
 Or else again you'll be a fright." 
 
 When Cinder-Maid entered the ball-room she was the loveliest of all the ladies and the 
Prince, who had been dancing with her step-sisters, would only dance with her. But as it 
came towards midnight Cinder-Maid remembered what the little bird had told her and 
slipped away to her carriage. And when the Prince missed her he went to the guards at the 
Palace door and told them to follow the carriage. But Cinder-Maid when she saw this, called 
out: 
 
 
"Mist behind and light before, 
 Guide me to my father's door." 
 
 And when the Prince's soldiers tried to follow her there came such a mist that they couldn't 
see their hands before their faces. So they couldn't find which way Cinder-Maid went. 
When her father and step-mother and two sisters came home after the ball they could talk of 
nothing but the lovely lady: "Ah, would not you have liked to have been there?" said the 
sisters to Cinder-Maid as she helped them to take off their fine dresses. "There was a most 
lovely lady with a dress like the heavens and shoes of bright copper, and the Prince would 
dance with none but her; and when midnight came she disappeared and the Prince could not 
find her. He is going to give a second ball in the hope that she will come again. Perhaps she 
will not, and then we will have our chance." 
When the time of the second Royal Ball came round the same thing happened as before; the 
sisters teased Cinder-Maid saying, "Wouldn't you like to come with us?" and drove off again 
as before. And Cinder-Maid went again to the hazel tree over her mother's grave and cried: 
 
 
"Tree o'mine, O tree o'me, 
 Shiver and shake, dear little tree 
 Make me a lady fair to see, 
 Dress me as splendid as can be." 
 
 And then the little bird on the tree called out: 
 
 
"Cinder-Maid, Cinder-Maid, shake the tree, 
 Open the first nut that you see." 
 
 But this time she found a dress all golden brown like the earth embroidered with flowers, 
and her shoon were made of silver; and when the carriage came from the tree, lo and behold, 
that was made of silver too, drawn by black horses with trappings all of silver, and the lace 
on the coachman's and footmen's liveries was also of silver; and when Cinder-Maid went to 
the ball the Prince would dance with none but her; and when midnight came round she fled 
as before. But the Prince, hoping to prevent her running away, had ordered the soldiers at 
the foot of the stair-case to pour out honey on the stairs so that her shoes would stick in it. 
But Cinder-Maid leaped from stair to stair and got away just in time, calling out as the 
soldiers tried to follow her: 
 
 
"Mist behind and light before, 
 Guide me to my father's door." 
And when her sisters got home they told her once more of the beautiful lady that had come 
in a silver coach and silver shoon and in a dress all embroidered with flowers: "Ah, wouldn't 
you have liked to have been there?" said they. 
Once again the Prince gave a great ball in the hope that his unknown beauty would come to 
it. All happened as before; as soon as the sisters had gone Cinder-Maid went to the hazel tree 
over her mother's grave and called out: 
 
 
"Tree o'mine, O tree o'me 
 Shiver and quiver, dear little tree; 
 Make me a lady fair to see, 
 Dress me as splendid as can be." 
 
 And then the little bird appeared and said: 
 
 
"Cinder-Maid, Cinder-Maid, shake the tree 
 Open the first nut that you see." 
 
 And when she opened the nut in it was a dress of silk green as the sea with waves upon it, 
and her shoes this time were made of gold; and when the coach came out of the tree it was 
also made of gold, with gold trappings for the horses and for the retainers. And as she drove 
off the little bird from the tree called out: 
 
 
"Be home, be home ere mid-o'night 
 Or else again you'll be a fright." 
Now this time, when Cinder-Maid came to the ball, she was as desirous to dance only with 
the Prince as he with her, and so, when midnight came round, she had forgotten to leave till 
the clock began to strike, one—two—three—four—five—six,—and then she began to run 
away down the stairs as the clock struck, eight—nine—ten. But the Prince had told his 
soldiers to put tar upon the lower steps of the stairs; and as the clock struck eleven her shoes 
stuck in the tar, and when she jumped to the foot of the stairs one of her golden shoes was 
left behind, and just then the clock struck TWELVE, and the golden coach, with its horses 
and footmen, disappeared, and the beautiful dress of Cinder-Maid changed again into her 
ragged clothes and she had to run home with only one golden shoe. 
You can imagine how excited the sisters were when they came home and told Cinder-Maid 
all about it, how that the beautiful lady had come in a golden coach in a dress like the sea, 
with golden shoes, and how all had disappeared at midnight except the golden shoe. "Ah, 
wouldn't you have liked to have been there?" said they. 
Now when the Prince found out that he could not keep his lady-love nor trace where she had 
gone he spoke to his father and showed him the golden shoe, and told him that he would 
never marry any one but the maiden who could wear that shoe. So the King, his father, 
ordered the herald to take round the golden shoe upon a velvet cushion and to go to every 
four corners where two streets met and sound the trumpet and call out: "O yes, O yes, O yes, 
be it known unto you all that whatsoever lady of noble birth can fit this shoe upon her foot 
shall become the bride of his Highness the Prince and our future Queen. God save the King." 
And when the herald came to the house of Cinder-Maid's father the eldest of her two 
step-sisters tried on the golden shoe. But it was much too small for her, as it was for every 
other lady that had tried it up to that time; but she went up into her room and with a sharp 
knife cut off one of her toes and part of her heel, and then fitted her foot into the shoe, and 
when she came down she showed it to the herald, who sent a message to the Palace saying 
that the lady had been found who could wear the golden shoe. Thereupon the Prince jumped 
at once upon his horse and rode to the house of Cinder-Maid's father. But when he saw the 
step-sister with the golden shoe, "Ah," he said, "but this is not the lady." "But," she said, 
"you promised to marry the one that could wear the golden shoe." And the Prince could say 
nothing, but offered to take her on his horse to his father's Palace, for in those days ladies 
usedto ride on a pillion at the back of the gentleman riding on horseback. Now as they were 
riding towards the Palace her foot began to drip with blood, and the little bird from the hazel 
tree that had followed them called out: 
 
 
"Turn and peep, turn and peep, 
 There's blood within the shoe; 
 A bit is cut from off the heel 
 And a bit from off the toe." 
And the Prince looked down and saw the blood streaming from her shoe and then he knew 
that this was not his true bride, and he rode back to the house of Cinder-Maid's father; and 
then the second sister tried her chance; but when she found that her foot wouldn't fit the 
shoe she did the same as her sister, but all happened as before. The little bird called out: 
 
 
"Turn and peep, turn and peep, 
 There's blood within the shoe; 
 A bit is cut from off the heel 
 And a bit from off the toe." 
 
 And the Prince took her back to her mother's house, and then he asked, "Have you no other 
daughter?" and the sisters cried out, "No, sir." But the father said, "Yes, I have another 
daughter." And the sisters cried out, "Cinder-Maid, Cinder-Maid, she could not wear that 
shoe." But the Prince said, "As she is of noble birth she has a right to try the shoe." So the 
herald went down to the kitchen and found Cinder-Maid; and when she saw her golden shoe 
she took it from him and put it on her foot, which it fitted exactly; and then she took the 
other golden shoe from underneath the cinders where she had hidden it and put that on too. 
Then the herald knew that she was the true bride of his master; and he took her upstairs to 
where the Prince was; when he saw her face, he knew that she was the lady of his love. So he 
took her behind him upon his horse; and as they rode to the Palace, the little bird from the 
hazel tree cried out: 
 
 
"Some cut their heel, and some cut their toe, 
 But she sat by the fire who could wear the shoe." 
 
 And so they were married and lived happy ever afterwards. 
 
aschenputtel 
ASH GIRL 
by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm 
 
THE wife of a rich man fell ill, and when she felt that she was nearing her end, she called her 
only daughter to her bedside, and said: 
‘Dear child, continue devout and good, then God will always help you, and I will look down 
upon you from heaven, and watch over you.’ 
Thereupon she closed her eyes, and breathed her last. 
The maiden went to her mother’s grave every day and wept, and she continued to be devout 
and good. When the winter came, the snow spread a white covering on the grave, and when 
the sun of spring had unveiled it again, the husband took another wife. The new wife 
brought home with her two daughters, who were fair and beautiful to look upon, but base 
and black at heart. 
Then began a sad time for the unfortunate step-child. 
‘Is this stupid goose to sit with us in the parlour?’ they said. 
‘Whoever wants to eat bread must earn it; go and sit with the kitchenmaid.’ 
They took away her pretty clothes, and made her put on an old grey frock, and gave her 
wooden clogs. 
‘Just look at the proud Princess, how well she’s dressed,’ they laughed, as they led her to the 
kitchen. There, the girl was obliged to do hard work from morning till night, to get up at 
daybreak, carry water, light the fire, cook, and wash. Not content with that, the sisters 
inflicted on her every vexation they could think of; they made fun of her, and tossed the peas 
and lentils among the ashes, so that she had to sit down and pick them out again. In the 
evening, when she was worn out with work, she had no bed to go to, but had to lie on the 
hearth among the cinders. And because, on account of that, she always looked dusty and 
dirty, they called her Ashenputtel. 
It happened one day that the Father had a mind to go to the Fair. So he asked both his 
step-daughters what he should bring home for them. 
‘Fine clothes,’ said one. 
‘Pearls and jewels,’ said the other. 
‘But you, Ashenputtel?’ said he, ‘what will you have?’ 
‘Father, break off for me the first twig which brushes against your hat on your way home.’ 
Well, for his two step-daughters he brought beautiful clothes, pearls and jewels, and on his 
way home, as he was riding through a green copse, a hazel twig grazed against him and 
knocked his hat off. Then he broke off the branch and took it with him. 
When he got home he gave his step-daughters what they had asked for, and to Ashenputtel 
he gave the twig from the hazel bush. 
Ashenputtel thanked him, and went to her mother’s grave and planted the twig upon it; she 
wept so much that her tears fell and watered it. And it took root and became a fine tree. 
Ashenputtel went to the grave three times every day, wept and prayed, and every time a little 
white bird came and perched upon the tree, and when she uttered a wish, the little bird 
threw down to her what she had wished for. 
Now it happened that the King proclaimed a festival, which was to last three days, and to 
which all the beautiful maidens in the country were invited, in order that his son might 
choose a bride. 
When the two step-daughters heard that they were also to be present, they were in high 
spirits, called Ashenputtel, and said: ‘Brush our hair and clean our shoes, and fasten our 
buckles, for we are going to the feast at the King’s palace.’ 
Ashenputtel obeyed, but wept, for she also would gladly have gone to the ball with them, and 
begged her step-mother to give her leave to go. 
‘You, Ashenputtel!’ she said. ‘Why, you are covered with dust and dirt. You go to the festival! 
Besides you have no clothes or shoes, and yet you want to go to the ball.’ 
As she, however, went on asking, her Step-mother said: 
‘Well, I have thrown a dishful of lentils into the cinders, if you have picked them all out in 
two hours you shall go with us.’ 
The girl went through the back door into the garden, and cried, ‘Ye gentle doves, ye turtle 
doves, and all ye little birds under heaven, come and help me, 
‘ 
The good into a dish to throw, The bad into your crops can go.’ 
Then two white doves came in by the kitchen window, and were followed by the turtle doves, 
and finally all the little birds under heaven flocked in, chirping, and settled down among the 
ashes. And the doves gave a nod with their little heads, peck, peck, peck; and then the rest 
began also, peck, peck, peck, and collected all the good beans into the dish. Scarcely had an 
hour passed before they had finished, and all flown out again. 
Then the girl brought the dish to her Step-mother, and was delighted to think that now she 
would be able to go to the feast with them. 
But she said, ‘No, Ashenputtel, you have no clothes, and cannot dance; you will only be 
laughed at.’ 
But when she began to cry, the Step-mother said: 
‘If you can pick out two whole dishes of lentils from the ashes in an hour, you shall go with 
us.’ 
And she thought, ‘She will never be able to do that.’ 
When her Step-mother had thrown the dishes of lentils among the ashes, the girl went out 
through the back door, and cried, ‘Ye gentle doves, ye turtle doves, and all ye little birds 
under heaven, come and help me, 
‘The good into a dish to throw, The bad into your crops can go.’ 
Then two white doves came in by the kitchen window, and were followed by the turtle doves, 
and all the other little birds under heaven, and in less than an hour the whole had been 
picked up, and they had all flown away. 
Then the girl carried the dish to her Step-mother, and was delighted to think that she would 
now be able to go to the ball. 
But she said, ‘It’s not a bit of good. You can’t go with us, for you’ve got no clothes, and you 
can’t dance. We should be quite ashamed of you.’ 
Thereupon she turned her back upon her, and hurried off with her two proud daughters. 
As soon as every one had left the house, Ashenputtel went out to her mother’s grave under 
the hazel-tree, and cried: 
‘Shiver andshake, dear little tree, Gold and silver shower on me.’ 
Then the bird threw down to her a gold and silver robe, and a pair of slippers embroidered 
with silk and silver. With all speed she put on the robe and went to the feast. But her 
step-sisters and their mother did not recognise her, and supposed that she was some foreign 
Princess, so beautiful did she appear in her golden dress. They never gave a thought to 
Ashenputtel, but imagined that she was sitting at home in the dirt picking the lentils out of 
the cinders. 
The Prince came up to the stranger, took her by the hand, and danced with her. In fact, he 
would not dance with any one else, and never left go of her hand. If any one came up to ask 
her to dance, he said, ‘This is my partner.’ 
She danced until nightfall, and then wanted to go home; but the Prince said, ‘I will go with 
you and escort you.’ 
For he wanted to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. But she slipped out of his way 
and sprang into the pigeon-house. 
Then the Prince waited till her Father came, and told him that the unknown maiden had 
vanished into the pigeon-house. 
The old man thought, ‘Could it be Ashenputtel?’ And he had an axe brought to him, so that 
he might break down the pigeon-house, but there was no one inside. 
When they went home, there lay Ashenputtel in her dirty clothes among the cinders, and a 
dismal oil lamp was burning in the chimney corner. For Ashenputtel had quietly jumped 
down out of the pigeon-house and ran back to the hazel-tree. There she had taken off her 
beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken them away again. Then 
she had settled herself among the ashes on the hearth in her old grey frock. 
On the second day, when the festival was renewed, and her parents and step-sisters had 
started forth again, Ashenputtel went to the hazel-tree, and said: 
‘Shiver and shake, dear little tree, Gold and silver shower on me.’ 
Then the bird threw down a still more gorgeous robe than on the previous day. And when 
she appeared at the festival in this robe, every one was astounded by her beauty. 
The King’s son had waited till she came, and at once took her hand, and she danced with no 
one but him. When others came forward and invited her to dance, he said, ‘This is my 
partner.’ 
At nightfall she wished to leave; but the Prince went after her, hoping to see into what house 
she went, but she sprang out into the garden behind the house. There stood a fine big tree on 
which the most delicious pears hung. She climbed up among the branches as nimbly as a 
squirrel, and the Prince could not make out what had become of her. 
But he waited till her Father came, and then said to him, ‘The unknown maiden has slipped 
away from me, and I think that she has jumped into the pear-tree.’ 
The Father thought, ‘Can it be Ashenputtel?’ And he had the axe brought to cut down the 
tree, but there was no one on it. When they went home and looked into the kitchen, there lay 
Ashenputtel among the cinders as usual; for she had jumped down on the other side of the 
tree, taken back the beautiful clothes to the bird on the hazel-tree, and put on her old grey 
frock. 
On the third day, when her parents and sisters had started, Ashenputtel went again to her 
mother’s grave, and said: 
‘Shiver and shake, dear little tree, Gold and silver shower on me.’ 
Then the bird threw down a dress which was so magnificent that no one had ever seen the 
like before, and the slippers were entirely of gold. When she appeared at the festival in this 
attire, they were all speechless with astonishment. The Prince danced only with her, and if 
any one else asked her to dance, he said, ‘This is my partner.’ 
When night fell and she wanted to leave, the Prince was more desirous than ever to 
accompany her, but she darted away from him so quickly that he could not keep up with her. 
But the Prince had used a stratagem, and had caused the steps to be covered with cobbler’s 
wax. The consequence was, that as the maiden sprang down them, her left slipper remained 
sticking there. The Prince took it up. It was small and dainty, and entirely made of gold. 
The next morning he went with it to Ashenputtel’s Father, and said to him, ‘No other shall 
become my wife but she whose foot this golden slipper fits.’ 
The two sisters were delighted at that, for they both had beautiful feet. The eldest went into 
the room intending to try on the slipper, and her Mother stood beside her. But her great toe 
prevented her getting it on, her foot was too long. 
Then her Mother handed her a knife, and said, ‘Cut off the toe; when you are Queen you 
won’t have to walk any more.’ 
The girl cut off her toe, forced her foot into the slipper, stifled her pain, and went out to the 
Prince. Then he took her up on his horse as his Bride, and rode away with her. 
However, they had to pass the grave on the way, and there sat the two Doves on the 
hazel-tree, and cried: 
‘Prithee, look back, prithee, look back, There’s blood on the track, The shoe is too small, At 
home the true Bride is waiting thy call.’ 
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was streaming from it. So he turned his 
horse round and carried the false Bride back to her home, and said that she was not the right 
one; the second sister must try the shoe. 
Then she went into the room, and succeeded in getting her toes into the shoe, but her heel 
was too big. 
Then her Mother handed her a knife, and said, ‘Cut a bit off your heel; when you are Queen 
you won’t have to walk any more.’ 
The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe, stifled her pain, and went out 
to the Prince. 
Then he took her up on his horse as his Bride, and rode off with her. 
As they passed the grave, the two Doves were sitting on the hazel-tree, and crying: 
‘Prithee, look back, prithee, look back, There’s blood on the track, The shoe is too small, At 
home the true Bride is waiting thy call.’ 
He looked down at her foot and saw that it was streaming with blood, and there were deep 
red spots on her stockings. Then he turned his horse and brought the false Bride back to her 
home. 
‘This is not the right one either,’ he said. ‘Have you no other daughter?’ 
‘No,’ said the man. ‘There is only a daughter of my late wife’s, a puny, stunted drudge, but she 
cannot possibly be the Bride.’ 
The Prince said that she must be sent for. 
But the Mother answered, ‘Oh no, she is much too dirty; she mustn’t be seen on any account.’ 
He was, however, absolutely determined to have his way, and they were obliged to summon 
Ashenputtel. 
When she had washed her hands and face, she went up and curtsied to the Prince, who 
handed her the golden slipper. 
Then she sat down on a bench, pulled off her wooden clog and put on the slipper, which 
fitted to a nicety. 
And when she stood up and the Prince looked into her face, he recognised the beautiful 
maiden that he had danced with, and cried: ‘This is the true Bride!’ 
The Stepmother and the two sisters were dismayed and turned white with rage; but he took 
Ashenputtel on his horse and rode off with her. 
As they rode past the hazel-tree the two White Doves cried: 
‘Prithee, look back, prithee, look back, No blood’s on the track, The shoe’s not too small, You 
carry the true Bride home to your hall.’ 
And when they had said this they both came flying down, and settled on Ashenputtel’s 
shoulders, one on the right, and one on the left, and remained perched there. 
When the wedding was going to take place, the two false sisters came and wanted to curry 
favour with her, and take part in her good fortune. As the bridal party was going to the 
church, the eldest was on the right side, the youngest on the left, and the Doves picked out 
one of the eyes of each of them. 
Afterwards, when they were coming out of the church, the elder was on the left, the younger 
on the right, and the Dovespicked out the other eye of each of them. And so for their 
wickedness and falseness they were punished with blindness for the rest of their days. 
 
FINETTE CENDRON 
by Madame d'Aulnoy 
 
ONCE on a time there was a King and a Queen who had managed their affairs very badly. 
They were driven out of their kingdom. They sold their crowns to support themselves; then 
their wardrobes, their linen, their lace, and all their furniture, piece by piece. The brokers 
were tired of purchasing, for every day something or other was sent for sale. When they had 
disposed of nearly everything, the King said to the Queen, "We are out of our own country, 
and have no longer any property. We must do something to get a living for ourselves and our 
poor children. Consider a little what we can do: for up to this time I have known no trade but 
a king's, which is a very agreeable one." The Queen had much good sense; she asked for 
eight days to think the matter over; at the end of that time, she said to the King, "Sire, we 
must not make ourselves unhappy. You have only to make nets, with which you may catch 
both fowl and fish. As the lines wear out, I will spin to make new ones. With respect to our 
three daughters, they are downright idle girls, who still think themselves fine ladies, and 
would fain live in that style without work. We must take them to such a distance—such a 
distance, that they can never find their way back again, for it will be impossible for us to 
keep them as fine as they would like to be." 
The King began to weep when he found he must separate himself from his children. He was 
a kind father; but the Queen was mistress; he therefore agreed to whatever she proposed. He 
said to her, "Get up early to-morrow morning, and take your three daughters wherever you 
think fit." Whilst they were thus plotting together, the Princess Finette, who was the 
youngest daughter, listened at the key-hole, and when she discovered the design of her father 
and mother, she set off as fast as she could for a great grotto, at a considerable distance from 
where they lived, and which was the abode of the Fairy Merluche, who was her godmother. 
Finette had taken with her two pounds of fresh butter, some eggs, some milk, and some flour, 
to make a nice cake for her godmother, in order that she might be well received by her. She 
commenced her journey gaily enough; but the further she went, the more weary she grew. 
The soles of her shoes were worn completely through, and her pretty little feet became so 
sore, that it was sad to see them. She was quite exhausted; she sat down on the grass and 
cried. A beautiful Spanish horse came by, saddled and bridled. There were more diamonds 
on his housings than would purchase three cities, and when he saw the Princess he stopped 
and began to graze quietly beside her. Bending his knees he appeared to pay homage to her; 
upon which, taking him by the bridle, "Gentle Hobby," said she, "wouldst thou kindly bear 
me to my Fairy godmother's? Thou wouldst do me great service; for I am so weary that I feel 
ready to die: but if thou wilt assist me on this occasion, I will give thee good oats and good 
hay, and a litter of fresh straw to lie upon." The horse bent himself almost to the ground, and 
young Finette jumping upon him, he galloped off with her as lightly as a bird. He stopped at 
the entrance of the grotto, as if he had known where he was to go to; and, in fact, he knew 
well enough; for it was Merluche herself who, having foreseen her goddaughter's visit, had 
sent the fine horse for her. 
As soon as Finette entered the grotto, she made three profound curtsies to her godmother, 
and took the hem of her gown and kissed it, and then said to her, "Good day, godmother, how 
do you do? I have brought you some butter, milk, flour, and eggs, to make a cake with after 
our country fashion." "You are welcome, Finette," said the Fairy; "come hither that I may 
embrace you." She kissed her twice, at which Finette was greatly delighted, for Madame 
Merluche was not one of those fairies you might find by the dozen. "Come, goddaughter," 
said she, "you shall be my little lady's maid. Take down my hair and comb it." The Princess 
took her hair down and combed it as cleverly as possible. "I know well enough," said 
Merluche, "what brought you hither. You overheard the King and Queen consulting how 
they might lose you, and you would avoid this misfortune. Here, you have only to take this 
skein of thread; it will never break. Fasten one end of it to the door of your house and keep 
the other end in your hand; when the Queen leaves you, you will easily find your way back by 
following the thread." 
The Princess thanked her godmother, who gave her a bag full of fine dresses all of gold and 
silver. She embraced her, placed her again on the pretty horse, and in two or three minutes 
he carried Finette to the door of their majesties' cottage. "My little friend," said Finette to 
the horse, "you are very handsome and clever; your speed is as great as the sun's. I thank you 
for your service. Return to the place you came from." She entered the house softly, and 
hiding her bag under her bolster went to bed, without appearing to know anything that had 
taken place. At break of day the King woke his wife: "Come, come, Madam," said he, "make 
ready for your journey." She got up directly, took her thick shoes, a short petticoat, a white 
jacket, and a stick. She summoned her eldest daughter, who was named Fleur d'Amour; her 
second, who was named Belle-de-Nuit, and her third, named Fine-Oreille, whom they 
familiarly called Finette. "I have been thinking all last night," said the Queen, "that we ought 
to go and see my sister; she will entertain us capitally. We may feast and laugh as much as we 
like there." Fleur d'Amour, who was in despair at living in a desert, said to her mother, "Let 
us go, Madam, wherever you please; provided I may walk somewhere, I don't care." The two 
others said as much. They took leave of the King and set off all four together. They went so 
far—so far, that Fine-Oreille was much afraid her thread would not be long enough, for they 
had gone nearly a thousand leagues. She walked always behind the others, drawing the 
thread cleverly through the thickets. 
When the Queen imagined that her daughters could not find the way back, she entered a 
thick wood, and said to them, "Sleep, my little lambs, I will be like the shepherdess, who 
watches over her flock for fear the wolf should devour them." They laid themselves down on 
the grass and went to sleep. The Queen left them there, believing she should never see them 
again. Finette had shut her eyes, but not gone to sleep. "If I were an ill-natured girl," said she 
to herself, "I should go home directly and leave my sisters to die here, for they beat me and 
scratch me till the blood comes. But notwithstanding all their malice, I will not abandon 
them." She aroused them, and told them the whole story. They began to cry, and begged her 
to take them with her, promising that they would give her beautiful dolls, a child's set of 
silver plate, and all their other toys and sweetmeats. "I am quite sure you will do no such 
thing," said Finette; "but I will behave as a good sister should, for all that." And so saying she 
rose, and followed the clue with the two princesses, so that they reached home almost as 
soon as the Queen. Whilst they were at the door, they heard the King say, "It gives me the 
heart-ache to see you come back alone." "Pshaw!" said the Queen, "our daughters were too 
great an incumbrance to us." "But," said the King, "if you had brought back my Finette, I 
might have consoled myself for the loss of the others, for they loved nothing and nobody." At 
that moment they knocked at the door—rap, rap. "Who is there?" said the King. "Your three 
daughters," they replied, "Fleur d'Amour, Belle-de-Nuit, and Fine-Oreille."The Queen 
began to tremble. "Don't open the door," she exclaimed; "it must be their ghosts, for it is 
impossible they could find their way back alive." The King, who was as great a coward as his 
wife, called out, "It is false; you are not my daughters!" but Fine-Oreille, who was a shrewd 
girl, said to him, "Papa, I will stoop down, and do you look at me through the hole made for 
the cat to come through, and if I am not Finette, I consent to be whipped." The King looked 
as she told him to do, and as soon as he recognised her, he opened the door. The Queen 
pretended to be delighted to see them again, and said, "that she had forgotten something, 
and had come home to fetch it; but that most assuredly she should have returned to them." 
They pretended to believe her, and went up to a snug little hay-loft, in which they always 
slept. 
"Now, sisters," said Finette, "you promised me a doll; give it me." "Thou mayst wait for it 
long enough, little rogue," said they. "Thou art the cause of the King's caring so little for us;" 
and thereupon, snatching up their distaffs, they beat her as if she had been so much mortar. 
When they had beaten her as much as they chose, they let her go to bed, but as she was 
covered with wounds and bruises, she could not sleep, and she heard the Queen say to the 
King, "I will take them in another direction, much further, and I am confident they will never 
return." When Finette heard this plot, she rose very softly to go and see her godmother 
again. She went into the hen-yard and took two hens and a cock, and wrung their necks, also 
two little rabbits that the Queen was fattening upon cabbages, to make a feast of on the next 
occasion. She put them all into a basket and set off: but she had not gone a league groping 
her way and quaking with fear, when the Spanish horse came up at a gallop, snorting and 
neighing. She thought it was all over with her; that some soldiers were about to seize her. 
When she saw the beautiful horse all alone, she jumped upon him, delighted to travel so 
comfortably, and arrived almost immediately at her godmother's. 
After the usual ceremonies, she presented her with the hens, the cock, and the rabbits, and 
begged the assistance of her good advice, the Queen having sworn she would lead them to 
the end of the world. Merluche told her goddaughter not to afflict herself, and gave her a 
sack full of ashes. "Carry this sack before you," said she, "and shake it as you go along. You 
will walk on the ashes, and when you wish to return you will have only to follow your 
footmarks; but do not bring your sisters back with you. They are too malicious, and if you do 
bring them back I will never see you again." Finette took leave of her, taking away by her 
order thirty or forty millions of diamonds in a little box, which she put in her pocket. The 
horse was ready in waiting, and carried her home as before. At daybreak the Queen called 
the Princesses. They came to her, and she said to them, "The King is not very well; I dreamed 
last night that I ought to go and gather for him some flowers and herbs in a certain country 
where they grow in great perfection. They will completely renovate him, therefore let us go 
there directly." Fleur d'Amour and Belle-de-Nuit, who never thought their mother intended 
to lose them again, were much grieved at these tidings. Go, however, they must; and so far 
did they go that never before had any one made so long a journey. Finette, who never said a 
word, kept behind, and shook her sack of ashes with such wonderful skill that neither the 
wind nor the rain affected them. 
The Queen being perfectly persuaded that they could not find their way back again, and 
observing one evening that her three daughters were fast asleep, took the opportunity of 
leaving them, and returned home. As soon as it was light, and Finette found her mother was 
gone, she awoke her sisters. "We are alone," said she; "the Queen has left us." Fleur d'Amour 
and Belle-de-Nuit began to cry; they tore their hair, and beat their own faces with their fists, 
exclaiming, "Alas! what will become of us!" Finette was the best-hearted girl in the world. 
She had compassion again on her sisters. "See now to what I expose myself," said she to 
them; "for when my godmother furnished me with means to return, she forbade me to show 
you the way, and told me that if I disobeyed her, she would never see me more." 
Belle-de-Nuit threw herself on Finette's neck, Fleur d'Amour did the same, kissing her so 
affectionately that it required nothing more to bring them all three back together to the King 
and the Queen. 
Their majesties were greatly surprised at the return of the Princesses. They talked about it 
all night long, and the youngest, who was not called Fine-Oreille for nothing, heard them 
concoct a new plot, and arrange that the next morning the Queen should again take them on 
a journey. She ran to wake her sisters; "Alas!" said she to them, "we are lost! The Queen is 
determined to lead us into some wilderness, and leave us there. For your sakes I have 
offended my godmother; I dare not go to her for advice as I used to do." They were in sad 
trouble, and said one to another, "What shall we do, sister; what shall we do?" At length 
Belle-de-Nuit said to the two others, "Why should we worry ourselves? old Merluche has not 
got all the wit in the world—some other folks may have a little. We have only to take plenty 
of peas with us and drop them all along the road as we go, and we shall be sure to trace our 
way back." Fleur d'Amour thought the idea admirable; they loaded themselves with peas, 
filling all their pockets; but Fine-Oreille, instead of peas, took her bag full of fine clothes, 
and the little box of diamonds, and as soon as the Queen called them they were ready to go. 
She said to them, "I dreamed last night that in a country which it is unnecessary to name, 
there are three handsome princes, who are waiting to marry you. I am going to take you 
there, to see if my dream is true." The Queen went first and her daughters followed her, 
dropping their peas without any anxiety, for they made sure of being able to find their way 
home. 
This time the Queen went further than ever she had gone before; but during one dark night 
she left the Princesses, and reached home very weary, but very happy to have got rid of so 
great a burthen as her three daughters. 
The three Princesses having slept till eleven o'clock in the morning, awoke, and Finette was 
the first to discover the Queen's absence. Although she was perfectly prepared for it, she 
could not help crying, trusting for her return much more to the power of her fairy godmother 
than to the cleverness of her sisters. She went to them in a great fright, and said, "The Queen 
is gone; we must follow her as quickly as possible." "Hold thy tongue, little mischievous 
animal," replied Fleur d'Amour; "we can find our way well enough when we choose; you are 
making a great fuss at a wrong season, gossip." Finette durst not make any answer. When, 
however, they did try to retrace their steps, there were no signs or paths to be found. There 
are immense flocks of pigeons in that country, and they had eaten up all the peas. The 
Princesses began to cry and scream with grief and terror. After being two days without food, 
Fleur d'Amour said to Belle-de-Nuit, "Sister, hast thou nothing to eat?" "Nothing," she 
replied. She put the same question to Finette. "Nor have I," she answered, "but I have just 
found an acorn." "Ah! give it to me," said one; "Give it to me," said the other. Each insisted 
on having it. "An acorn will not go far amongst three of us," said Finette; "let us plant it; 
there may spring a tree from it which may be useful to us." They consented, although there 
was little chance of a tree growing in a country where none were to be seen. They could find 
only cabbages and lettuces, on