Beauty and the Beast
with Beauty's kind and generous offer, but I cannot yield to it; I am
old, and have not long to live, so can only lose a few years, which I
regret for your sakes alone, my dear children." "Indeed, father (said
Beauty), you shall not go to the palace without me, you cannot hinder me
from following you." It was to no purpose all they could say, Beauty
still insisted on setting out for the fine palace; and her sisters were
delighted at it, for her virtue and amiable qualities made them envious
and jealous.
The merchant was so afflicted at the thoughts of losing his daughter,
that he had quite forgot the chest full of gold; but at night, when he
retired to rest, no sooner had he shut his chamber-door, than, to his
great astonishment, he found it by his bedside; he was determined,
however, not to tell his children that he was grown rich, because they
would have wanted to return to town, and he was resolved not to leave
the country; but he trusted Beauty with the secret: who informed him,
that two gentlemen came in his absence, and courted her sisters; she
begged her father to consent to their marriage, and give them fortunes;
for she was so good, that she loved them, and forgave them heartily all
their ill-usage. These wicked creatures rubbed their eyes with an
onion, to force some tears when they parted with their sister; but her
brothers were really concerned. Beauty was the only one who did not shed
tears at parting, because she would not increase their uneasiness.
The horse took the direct road to the palace; and towards evening they
perceived it illuminated as at first: the horse went of himself into the
stable, and the good man and his daughter came into the great hall,
where they found a table splendidly served up, and two covers. The
merchant had no heart to eat; but Beauty endeavoured to appear cheerful,
sat down to table, and helped him. Afterwards, thought she to herself,
"Beast surely has a mind to fatten me before he eats me, since he
provides such a plentiful entertainment." When they had supped, they
heard a great noise, and the merchant, all in tears, bid his poor child
farewell, for he thought Beast was coming. Beauty was sadly terrified
at his horrid form, but she took courage as well as she could, and the
monster having asked her if she came willingly; "y--e--s," said she,
trembling. "You are very good, and I am greatly obliged to you; honest
man, go your ways tomorrow morning, but never think of returning here
again. Farewell, Beauty." "Farewell, Beast," answered she; and
immediately the monster withdrew. "Oh, daughter, (said the merchant,
embracing Beauty,) I am almost frightened to death; believe me, you had
better go back, and let me stay here." "No, father, (said Beauty, in a
resolute tone,) you shall set out tomorrow morning, and leave me to the
care and protection of Providence." They went to bed, and thought they
should not close their eyes all night; but scarce were they laid down,
than they fell fast asleep; and Beauty dreamed, a fine lady came, and
said to her, "I am content, Beauty, with your good will; this good
action of yours, in giving up your own life to save your father's, shall
not go unrewarded." Beauty waked, and told her father her dream, and
though it helped to comfort him a little, yet he could not help crying
bitterly, when he took leave of his dear child.
As soon as he was gone, Beauty sat down in the great hall, and fell a
crying likewise; but as she was mistress of a great deal of resolution,
she recommended herself to God, and resolved not to be uneasy the little
time she had to live; for she firmly believed Beast would eat her up
that night.
However, she thought she might as well walk about till then, and view
this fine castle, which she could not help admiring; it was a delightful
pleasant place, and she was extremely surprised at seeing a door, over
which was wrote, "BEAUTY'S APARTMENT." She opened it hastily, and was
quite dazzled with the magnificence that reigned throughout; but what
chiefly took up her attention, was a large library, a harpsichord, and
several music books. "Well, (said she to herself,) I see they will not
let my time hang heavy on my hands for want of amusement." Then she
reflected, "Were I but to stay here a day, there would not have been all
these preparations." This consideration inspired her with fresh courage;
and opening the library, she took a book, and read these words in
letters of gold:--
"Welcome, Beauty, banish fear,
You are queen and mistress here;
Speak your wishes, speak your will,
Swift obedience meets them still."
"Alas, (said she, with a sigh,) there is nothing I desire so much as to
see my poor father, and to know what he is doing." She had no sooner
said this, when casting her eyes on a great looking-glass, to her great
amazement she saw her own home, where her father arrived with a very
dejected countenance; her sisters went to meet him, and, notwithstanding
their endeavours to appear sorrowful, their joy, felt for having got rid
of their sister, was visible in every feature: a moment after, every
thing disappeared, and Beauty's apprehensions at this proof of Beast's
complaisance.
At noon she found dinner ready, and while at table, was entertained with
an excellent concert of music, though without seeing any body: but at
night, as she was going to sit down to supper, she heard the noise Beast
made; and could not help being sadly terrified. "Beauty, (said the
monster,) will you give me leave to see you sup?" "That is as you
please," answered Beauty, trembling. "No, (replied the Beast,) you
alone are mistress here; you need only bid me be gone, if my presence is
troublesome, and I will immediately withdraw: but tell me, do not you
think me very ugly?" "That is true, (said Beauty,) for I cannot tell a
lie; but I believe you are very good-natured." "So I am, (said the
monster,) but then, besides my ugliness, I have no sense; I know very
well that I am a poor, silly, stupid creature." "'Tis no sign of folly
to think so, (replied Beauty,) for never did fool know this, or had so
humble a conceit of his own understanding." "Eat then, Beauty, (said the
monster,) and endeavour to amuse yourself in your palace; for every
thing here is yours, and I should be very uneasy if you were not happy."
"You are very obliging, (answered Beauty;) I own I am pleased with your
kindness, and when I consider that, your deformity scarce appears."
"Yes, yes, (said the Beast,) my heart is good, but still I am a
monster." "Among mankind, (says Beauty,) there are many that deserve
that name more than you, and I prefer you, just as your are, to those,
who, under a human form, hide a treacherous, corrupt, and ungrateful
heart." "If I had sense enough, (replied the Beast,) I would make a
fine compliment to thank you, but I am so dull, that I can only say, I
am greatly obliged to you." Beauty ate a hearty supper, and had almost
conquered her dread of the monster; but she had liked to have fainted
away, when he said to her, "Beauty, will you be my wife?" She was some
time before she durst answer; for she was afraid of making him angry, if
she refused. At last, however, she said, trembling, "No, Beast."
Immediately the poor monster began to sigh, and hissed so frightfully,
that the whole palace echoed. But Beauty soon recovered her fright, for
Beast having said, in a mournful voice, "then farewell, Beauty," left
the room; and only turned back, now and then, to look at her as he went
out.
When Beauty was alone, she felt a great deal of compassion for poor
Beast. "Alas, (said she,) 'tis a thousand pities any thing so
good-natured should be so ugly."
Beauty spent three months very contentedly in the palace: every evening
Beast paid her a visit, and talked to her during supper, very
rationally, with plain good common sense, but never with what the world
calls wit; and Beauty daily discovered some valuable qualifications in
the monster; and seeing him often, had so accustomed her to his
deformity, that, far from dreading the time of his visit, she would
often look on her watch to see when it would be nine; for the Beast
never missed coming at that hour. There was but one thing that gave
Beauty any concern, which was, that every night, before she went to bed,
the monster always asked her, if she would be his wife. One day she
said to him, "Beast, you make me very uneasy, I wish I could consent to
marry you, but I am too sincere to make you believe that will ever
happen: I shall always esteem you as a friend; endeavour to be satisfied
with this." "I must, said the Beast, for, alas! I know too well my own
misfortune; but then I love you with the tenderest affection: however, I
ought to think myself happy that you will stay here; promise me never to
leave me." Beauty blushed at these words; she had seen in her glass,
that her father had pined himself sick for the loss of her, and she
longed to see him again. "I could, (answered she), indeed promise never
to leave you entirely, but I have so great a desire to see my father,
that I shall fret to death, if you refuse me that satisfaction." "I had
rather die myself, (said the monster,) than give you the least
uneasiness: I will send you to your father, you shall remain with him,
and poor Beast will die with grief." "No, (said Beauty, weeping,) I
love you too well to be the cause of your death: I give you my promise
to return in a week: you have shewn me that my sisters are married, and
my brothers gone to the army; only let me stay a week with my father, as
he is alone." "You shall be there tomorrow morning, (said the Beast,)
but remember your promise: you need only lay your ring on the table
before you go to bed, when you have a mind to come back: farewell,
Beauty." Beast sighed as usual, bidding her good night; and Beauty went
to bed very sad at seeing him so afflicted. When she waked the next
morning, she found herself at her father's, and having rang a little
bell, that was by her bed-side, she saw the maid come; who, the moment
she saw her, gave a loud shriek; at which the good man ran up stairs,
and thought he should have died with joy to see his dear daughter again.
He held her fast locked in his arms above a quarter of an hour. As soon
as the first transports were over, Beauty began to think of rising, and
was afraid she had no clothes to put on; but the maid told her, that she
had just found, in the next room, a large trunk full of gowns, covered
with gold and diamonds. Beauty thanked good Beast for his kind care,
and taking one of the plainest of them, she intended to make a present
of the others to her sisters. She scarce had said so, when the trunk
disappeared. Her father told her, that Beast insisted on her keeping
them herself; and immediately both gowns and trunk came back again.
Beauty dressed herself; and in the mean time they sent to her sisters,
who hasted thither with their husbands. They were both of them very
unhappy. The eldest had married a gentleman, extremely handsome indeed,
but so fond of his own person, that he was full of nothing but his own
dear self, and neglected his wife. The second had married a man of wit,
but he only made use of it to plague and torment every body, and his
wife most of all. Beauty's sisters sickened with envy, when they saw her
dressed like a Princess, and more beautiful than ever; nor could all her
obliging affectionate behaviour stifle their jealousy, which was ready
to burst when she told them how happy she was. They went down into the
garden to vent it in tears; and said one to the other, "In what is this