The story of Beauty & the Beast

NOT very far away from here there may be seen a  great city, which is maintained in a state of wealth by its very prosperous men. It numbered amongst its citizens a merchant, who was successful in all that he undertook, and on whom Dame Fortune, ever at his beck and call, had showered her most rare and fairest favours. But if he had immense wealth, he had also a great many children. His family, in fact, was composed of •> six boys and six girls. None of them were as yet married, for the boys were still too young to think of it, and the daughters, proud of the large fortunes upon which they had every reason to count, found it difficult to decide upon the choice they should make.

While the vanity of these maidens was being flattered by the attentions of all the most handsome young men in the place, there suddenly came a reverse of fortune, which was the last thing these girls expected, and which sadly troubled the peacefulness of their life. The house in which they lived took fire. The splendid furniture with which it was filled, all the books of account, the bank-notes, the gold and silver, as well as all the precious stores, which formed the merchant's chief source of wealth, were enveloped in the disastrous conflagration, the violence of which was such that scarcely anything was saved.

This terrible misfortune was destined to be but the forerunner of others. The father, with whom everything had prospered hitherto, lost at one and the same time, either by shipwreck or through falling into the hands of pirates, all the ships that he had at sea. His agents, at home made him a bankrupt, and those who acted for him in foreign lands deceived him.

.There remained to him nothing but a little country dwelling-place, situated in a secluded and desert spot, more than a hundred leagues from the city in which he had hitherto lived. Compelled, as he was, to seek a place of refuge, it was here, far from the noise and tumult, that he brought his family, all the members of which were in utter despair at such a revolution in their manner of life.

The daughters, especially, of this unfortunate merchant were filled with dismay at the thought of the life they were going to lead in this sad solitude. For some time they had flattered themselves that, when their father's intention became known, their lovers, who had hitherto sued in vain, would be only too happy to find that they were prepared to listen to them. They had fondly imagined that the many admirers of each would all be striving to obtain the preference, and they had believed that they had but to wish for a husband in order to have one. They did not remain very long, however, in so delightful an illusion. They had soon to learn that they had lost the most attractive of their charms, when, like a flash of lightning, their father's splendid fortune had disappeared, and that their time for choosing had departed with it. The crowd of ardent adorers vanished at the moment of their downfall, and neither their beauty nor their charms were capable of retaining a single one.

Their friends were not more generous than their lovers. From the moment that they became poor, all, without exception, ceased to know them. Some were even so cruel as to attribute their misfortunes to their own acts. Indeed, those whom the father had most obliged became the most vehement of his calumniators, and went about reporting that all these calamities had been brought about by his own bad conduct, his prodigality, and the excessive extravagance that he had allowed his children to indulge in. The members of this unhappy family, therefore, found that they could do nothing better than disappear from a city where everyone took a delight in insulting them in their misfortune. Without means of any kind, they shut themselves up in their little country house, which was situated in the midst of an almost impenetrable forest, and which might well be considered the saddest abode in the world. What miseries they had to endure in this frightful solitude ! Being no longer able to have anyone to wait upon them, the sons of this unfortunate merchant divided the servants' duties among themselves, and each exerted himself as best he could in trying to find a means of subsistence in a country life. As for the daughters, they also had their work to do. Like poor peasant girls, they found themselves obliged to employ their delicate hands in all the labours of a rural life. Having nothing to gratify their vanity, wearing nothing but woollen dresses, existing alone upon the simplest necessaries and upon what the land could give them, these girls, nevertheless, still retained their refined and dainty tastes, and never ceased regretting the city and its attractions. The recollection of their early years, passed so rapidly in the midst of laughter and amusement, caused them the most acute pain.

The youngest girl, however, in their common misfortune, displayed a greater courage and resolution than the others. She bore her lot cheerfully, and with a strength of mind that was far beyond her years. Like the rest, she had at first been terribly melancholy. Alas! who would not have given way under such misfortunes ? But, after having bitterly deplored her father's ruin, could she have done better than resume her former gaiety, make up her mind to be happy in the new position she was placed in, and forget a world which she and her family had found so ungrateful, and whose friendship had proved so unreliable in time of adversity ?

Filled with a longing to comfort her father and her brothers, there was nothing which her sweet nature and witty disposition left undone in her attempt to amuse them. The merchant had spared no cost in her education, as in that of her sisters, and at this sad period she derived all the benefit from it that she desired. She could not only play exceedingly well upon various instruments, but she could also sing to them as well to her own accompaniment. One would have thought that her sisters would have followed her bright example, but her cheerfulness and patience only made them the more miserable. These girls, in fact, who were so inconsolable in their ill-fortune, thought that the conduct of their youngest sister showed a meanness of soul and a weakness of mind, to be thus so merry in the state it had pleased Providence to reduce them to. " How happy she is ! " said the eldest. " She was intended for coarse occupations like these. With such low notions, what would she have done in society?" These remarks were unjust. This young girl was much more fitted to shine in the world than any of them.

She was a perfectly beautiful young creature, and her sweet and even temper rendered her adorable. Her tender heart — as generous as it was tender — showed itself in all her words and acts. No less alive than her sisters to the reverses that had overwhelmed her family, she knew how to conceal her sorrow, and rise superior to her adversities. Thus it was that her firmness passed for insensibility in the minds of her sisters. But one can easily appeal from a judgment pronounced by jealousy.

Recognised for what she really was by all intelligent persons, the latter were not slow in giving her the preference over her sisters. In the midst of her former splendour she had acquired the name of " Beauty," as well for the real worth and charm of her character, as for the extraordinary grace and beauty of her person ; known as she was, by this name alone, what more was required to increase the jealousy and the hatred of her sisters ? Her charms, indeed, and the general esteem in which she was held, might have induced her to hope for a much more advantageous establishment than her sisters could have /expected ; but, with feelings of sympathy only for her father in his misfortunes, so far from endeavouring to retard his departure from a city in which she had enjoyed so much pleasure, she did all she could to hurry it on. In the loneliness of the forest, this young girl showed as much tranquillity as she had showed in the midst of the gaieties of society. To amuse herself, in her hours of relaxation, she would dress her hair with flowers, and, as with the shepherdesses of olden time, a rustic life causing her to forget all that had most gratified her in the midst of opulence, she found every day some new and innocent pastime with which to beguile her time.

Two years had already passed, and the family was beginning to accustom itself to a country life, when a hope of returning prosperity came to disturb its tranquillity. The father received news that one of his vessels, which he had believed was lost, had just arrived safely in port, richly laden. He was informed at the same time, that fears were entertained lest his agents, taking advantage of his absence, should dispose of the cargo at a miserable figure, and by this fraud make a great profit at his expense. He imparted these tidings to his children, who did not doubt for an instant but that they would soon be enabled to return from exile. The girls especially, more impatient than the boys, deeming it unnecessary to wait for more certain proof, wanted to set out immediately and leave everything behind them. But the father, more prudent, begged them to moderate their transports ; and although it was of the greatest importance that he should be with his family at a time when the labours of the field could not be interrupted without great loss, he determined, nevertheless, to leave to his sons the task of getting in the harvest, and to set out upon this long journey alone.

All his daughters, with the exception of the youngest, firmly believed that they would soon be restored to their former opulence. They fancied that, even if their father found that his property was not sufficiently great to warrant his bringing his children back to the great metropolis, the city of their birth, he would at least have enough to settle them in a less expensive town — a town where they would find a tolerable society, and where they would be able to attract admirers ; and they made up their minds to profit by the first offer that might be made to them. No longer thinking of the troubles they had undergone during the last two years, believing themselves already, as by a miracle, transported from poverty into the lap of plenty, they ventured — for a life of solitude had not cured them of the taste for luxury and display — to overwhelm their father with the most extravagant commissions. He was urged to make all sorts of purchases for them in the way of jewels, attire and head-dresses. Each tried to outdo the other in her demands, so that the sum total of their father's supposed fortune would not have been sufficient to satisfy them. Beauty, who was not tyrannised over by ambition, and who always acted with prudence, saw directly that if he executed all her sisters' commissions, it would be useless for her to ask for anything. But her father, surprised at her silence, said to her, as he interrupted his insatiable daughters —

"And you, Beauty, have you no wish at all? Come, speak freely ; what am I to bring home for you? What is it you want?"

" Dear papa," replied the charming child, as she embraced him affectionately, " I wish for one thing more precious than all the ornaments that my sisters have asked you for. All my wants are centred in this one wish, and I shall be only too happy if it can be fulfilled. It is the gratification of seeing you return home in perfect health."

This answer was so unmistakably disinterested that it covered the others with shame and confusion. They were so angry that one of them, speaking for the rest, said bitterly —

" This child gives herself great airs and imagines that she will distinguish herself by this affected heroism. Nothing surely could be more ridiculous."

But the father, touched by her feelings, could not refrain from showing his delight, and, though appreciating the desires to which this child confined herself, he nevertheless begged her to choose something, and in order to allay the ill-will that his other daughters had towards her, he observed to her that such indifference to dress was not natural at her age, and that there was a time for everything.

" Very well, dear father," said she, " since you will have me request something, I beg you to bring me a rose. I adore that flower, and since I have been in this desert, I have not had the pleasure of seeing a single one." In this way she did what her father asked her, and at the same time she avoided putting him to any expense for her.

The day, however, came, when this good old man had to tear himself from the embraces of his numerous family. As fast as he could, he travelled to the great city, whither the prospect of a new fortune had recalled him. But he found that things were not as hopeful as^He~had anticipated. His ship had certainly arrived ; but his partners, believing him to be dead, had taken possession of it, and all the cargo had been disposed of. Thus, so far from entering into the full and peaceable possession of what belonged to him, he was compelled to encounter all sorts of chicanery in the pursuit of his rights. He overcame these difficulties, but after more than six months of annoyance and expense, he found that he was no richer than before. His debtors had become insolvent, and it was with difficulty that he was able to defray his own costs. Thus ended this dream of riches.

To add to his troubles, he was obliged, in order to spare his purse, to start on his homeward journey at a most unseasonable time and in the most wretched weather. Exposed on the road to all the inclemencies of the atmosphere, he was often on the point of succumbing from fatigue. But when he found himself within a few leagues of his home — that home which he had never reckoned on leaving for the sake of running after empty hopes, which Beauty had shown her sense in distrusting— his strength returned to him. To cross the forest, he had still a march of several hours before him, and though it was late, he determined to continue his journey. But he soon found himself overtaken by the fall of night. As he was suffering from the most intense cold, not knowing which way to bend his steps, and almost buried — he and his horse — in the snow, he thought that his last hour had come. No hut was in his road, although the forest was filled with them. A tree, hollowed by decay, was the best shelter he could find, and he was only too happy to be able to hide himself in it. This tree, protecting him from the cold, was the means of saving his life. His horse, in the meantime, was guided by instinct to take shelter in a cave hard by.

The night, in such a situation, appeared to him unending ; furthermore, he was ravaged by the pangs of hunger and appalled by the roarings of the wild beasts, who never ceased prowling around his hiding-place. He had not an instant's tranquillity.Proceeding without knowing in which direction, chance guided his footsteps into the avenue of a beautiful^castle^ which, it appeared, y the snow had respected, as there was none to be seen. This avenue was composed of four rows of orange-trees of a great height, which were laden with flowers and fruit. Here and there statues were to be seen, erected apparently without any regard for order or symmetry, some being placed by the side of the road, others among the trees, and all being composed of some unknown substance ; all of them, too, were life-size, and had the colour of human beings ; they stood in different attitudes, and were clothed in various dresses, the greater number in the garb of warriors. On arriving at the outer court of the castle, the merchant saw more statues, in infinite numbers. He was suffering so much from cold that he was unable to stop and examine them. Then an agate staircase, with balusters chased in gold, presented itself to his sight. He passed onwards, through several magnificently furnished rooms, where a gentle warmth greatly invigorated him. Food he needed sorely, but to whom apply ? This vast and magnificent edifice appeared to be inhabited only by statues. A profound silence reigned throughout it ; and yet it had by no means the air of an old palace that had been deserted. The halls, the rooms, the galleries, were all of them open, and still no living being was to be seen in this charming place.

Translated from the French by Ernest Dowson.