Fanny's mind was soon made up: although she had dreamt of a crown
and sceptre, yet a woman's first wish is always to please. To this
great desire all else must yield, and Fanny would rather be fair in
drugget than be a Queen with an ugly face.
Thus our woodcutter did not change his state, did not become a
potentate, nor fill his purse with golden crowns. He was thankful
enough to use his remaining wish to a more humble purpose, and
forthwith relieved his wife of her encumbrance.
_The Moral_
_Ah! so it is that miserable man,
By nature fickle, blind, unwise, and rash,
Oft fails to reap a harvest from great gifts
Bestowed upon him by the heav'nly gods._
_Donkey-skin_
Donkey-skin
Once upon a time there was a King, so great, so beloved by his people,
and so respected by all his neighbours and allies that one might
almost say he was the happiest monarch alive. His good fortune was
made even greater by the choice he had made for wife of a Princess as
beautiful as she was virtuous, with whom he lived in perfect
happiness. Now, of this chaste marriage was born a daughter endowed
with so many gifts that they had no regret because other children were
not given to them.
Magnificence, good taste, and abundance reigned in the palace; there
were wise and clever ministers, virtuous and devoted courtiers,
faithful and diligent servants. The spacious stables were filled with
the most beautiful horses in the world, and coverts of rich caparison;
but what most astonished strangers who came to admire them was to see,
in the finest stall, a master donkey, with great long ears.
Now, it was not for a whim but for a good reason that the King had
given this donkey a particular and distinguished place. The special
qualities of this rare animal deserved the distinction, since nature
had made it in so extraordinary a way that its litter, instead of
being like that of other donkeys, was covered every morning with an
abundance of beautiful golden crowns, and golden louis of every kind,
which were collected daily.
Since the vicissitudes of life wait on Kings as much as on their
subjects, and good is always mingled with ill, it so befell that the
Queen was suddenly attacked by a fatal illness, and, in spite of
science, and the skill of the doctors, no remedy could be found. There
was great mourning throughout the land. The King who, notwithstanding
the famous proverb, that marriage is the tomb of love, was deeply
attached to his wife, was distressed beyond measure and made fervent
vows to all the temples in his kingdom, and offered to give his life
for that of his beloved consort; but he invoked the gods and the
Fairies in vain. The Queen, feeling her last hour approach, said to
her husband, who was dissolved in tears: "It is well that I should
speak to you of a certain matter before I die: if, perchance, you
should desire to marry again...." At these words the King broke into
piteous cries, took his wife's hands in his own, and assured her that
it was useless to speak to him of a second marriage.
"No, my dear spouse," he said at last, "speak to me rather of how I
may follow you."
"The State," continued the Queen with a finality which but increased
the laments of the King, "the State demands successors, and since I
have only given you a daughter, it will urge you to beget sons who
resemble you; but I ask you earnestly not to give way to the
persuasions of your people until you have found a Princess more
beautiful and more perfectly fashioned than I. I beg you to swear this
to me, and then I shall die content."
Perchance, the Queen, who did not lack self-esteem, exacted this oath
firmly believing that there was not her equal in the world, and so
felt assured that the King would never marry again. Be this as it may,
at length she died, and never did husband make so much lamentation;
the King wept and sobbed day and night, and the punctilious fulfilment
of the rites of widower-hood, even the smallest, was his sole
occupation.
But even great griefs do not last for ever. After a time the magnates
of the State assembled and came to the King, urging him to take
another wife. At first this request seemed hard to him and made him
shed fresh tears. He pleaded the vows he had made to the Queen, and
defied his counsellors to find a Princess more beautiful and better
fashioned than was she, thinking this to be impossible. But the
Council treated the promise as a trifle, and said that it mattered
little about beauty if the Queen were but virtuous and fruitful. For
the State needed Princes for its peace and prosperity, and though, in
truth, the Princess, his daughter, had all the qualities requisite for
making a great Queen, yet of necessity she must choose an alien for
her husband, and then the stranger would take her away with him. If,
on the other hand, he remained in her country and shared the throne
with her, their children would not be considered to be of pure native
stock, and so, there being no Prince of his name, neighbouring peoples
would stir up wars, and the kingdom would be ruined.
The King, impressed by these considerations, promised that he would
think over the matter. And so search was made among all the
marriageable Princesses for one that would suit him. Every day
charming portraits were brought him, but none gave promise of the
beauty of his late Queen; instead of coming to a decision he brooded
over his sorrow until in the end his reason left him. In his delusions
he imagined himself once more a young man; he thought the Princess his
daughter, in her youth and beauty, was his Queen as he had known her
in the days of their courtship, and living thus in the past he urged
the unhappy girl to speedily become his bride.
The young Princess, who was virtuous and chaste, threw herself at the
feet of the King her father and conjured him, with all the eloquence
she could command, not to constrain her to consent to his unnatural
desire.
The King, in his madness, could not understand the reason of her
desperate reluctance, and asked an old Druid-priest to set the
conscience of the Princess at rest. Now this Druid, less religious
than ambitious, sacrificed the cause of innocence and virtue to the
favour of so great a monarch, and instead of trying to restore the
King to his right mind, he encouraged him in his delusion.
The young Princess, beside herself with misery, at last bethought her
of the Lilac-fairy, her godmother; determined to consult her, she set
out that same night in a pretty little carriage drawn by a great sheep
who knew all the roads. When she arrived the Fairy, who loved the
Princess, told her that she knew all she had come to say, but that she
need have no fear, for nothing would harm her if only she
faithfully fulfilled the Fairy's injunctions. "For, my dear child,"
she said to her, "it would be a great sin to submit to your father's
wishes, but you can avoid the necessity without displeasing him. Tell
him that to satisfy a whim you have, he must give you a dress the
colour of the weather. Never, in spite of all his love and his power
will he be able to give you that."
The Princess thanked her godmother from her heart, and the next
morning spoke to the King as the Fairy had counselled her, and
protested that no one would win her hand unless he gave her a dress
the colour of the weather. The King, overjoyed and hopeful, called
together the most skilful workmen, and demanded this robe of them;
otherwise they should be hanged. But he was saved from resorting to
this extreme measure, since, on the second day, they brought the much
desired robe. The heavens are not a more beautiful blue, when they are
girdled with clouds of gold, than was that lovely dress when it was
unfolded. The Princess was very sad because of it, and did not know
what to do.
Once more she went to her Fairy-godmother who, astonished that her
plan had been foiled, now told her to ask for another gown the colour
of the moon.
The King again sought out the most clever workmen and expressly
commanded them to make a dress the colour of the moon; and woe betide
them if between the giving of the order and the bringing of the dress
more than twenty-four hours should elapse.
The Princess, though pleased with the dress when it was delivered,
gave way to distress when she was with her women and her nurse. The
Lilac-fairy, who knew all, hastened to comfort her and said: "Either I
am greatly deceived or it is certain that if you ask for a dress the
colour of the sun we shall at last baffle the King your father, for it
would never be possible to make such a gown; in any case we should
gain time."
So the Princess asked for yet another gown as the Fairy bade her. The
infatuated King could refuse his daughter nothing, and he gave without
regret all the diamonds and rubies in his crown to aid this superb
work; nothing was to be spared that could make the dress as beautiful
as the sun. And, indeed, when the dress appeared, all those who
unfolded it were obliged to close their eyes, so much were they
dazzled. And, truth to tell, green spectacles and smoked glasses date
from that time.
What was the Princess to do? Never had so beautiful and so artistic a
robe been seen. She was dumb-founded, and pretending that its
brilliance had hurt her eyes she retired to her chamber, where she
found the Fairy awaiting her.
On seeing the dress like the sun, the Lilac-fairy became red with
rage. "Oh! this time, my child," she said to the Princess, "we will
put the King to terrible proof. In spite of his madness I think he
will be a little astonished by the request that I counsel you to make
of him; it is that he should give you the skin of that ass he loves
so dearly, and which supplies him so profusely with the means of
paying all his expenses. Go, and do not fail to tell him that you want
this skin." The Princess, overjoyed at finding yet another avenue of
escape; for she thought that her father could never bring himself to
sacrifice the ass, went to find him, and unfolded to him her latest
desire.
Although the King was astonished by this whim, he did not hesitate to
satisfy it; the poor ass was sacrificed and the skin brought, with due
ceremony, to the Princess, who, seeing no other way of avoiding her
ill-fortune, was desperate.
At that moment her godmother arrived. "What are you doing, my child?"
she asked, seeing the Princess tearing her hair, her beautiful cheeks
stained with tears. "This is the most happy moment of your life. Wrap
yourself in this skin, leave the palace, and walk so long as you can
find ground to carry you: when one sacrifices everything to virtue the
gods know how to mete out reward. Go, and I will take care that your
possessions follow you; in whatever place you rest, your chest with
your clothes and your jewels will follow your steps, and here is my
wand which I will give you: tap the ground with it when you have need
of the chest, and it will appear before your eyes: but haste to set
forth, and do not delay." The Princess embraced her godmother many
times, and begged her not to forsake her. Then after she had smeared
herself with soot from the chimney, she wrapped herself up in that
ugly skin and went out from the magnificent palace without being
recognised by a single person.
The absence of the Princess caused a great commotion. The King, who
had caused a sumptuous banquet to be prepared, was inconsolable. He
sent out more than a hundred gendarmes, and more than a thousand