The New Blue Fairy Book Part 1: Fairy Tales 1 to 6, Page 2

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

  Once upon a time in a distant land, there lived a merchant with a dozen children. Six of them were girls, and six were boys. People said the merchant was as rich as the king himself, but the merchant was under no such delusions. He was rich enough to give his children anything they wanted, but that was the limit of his wealth.

  One day, disaster struck the merchant. His house burned to the ground, and all his belongings were destroyed. That same day, word arrived that every ship he owned was lost at sea, either by shipwreck or fire, or because of piracy. Finally, he heard that some of his company managers had stolen the greater part of his profits. The merchant found himself suddenly in terrible poverty.

  His only remaining property was a small cottage. The cottage was hundreds of miles away, and stood in the middle of a dark black forest. But the merchant had no choice but to move his family there. The children had hoped their friends would help them out, but their friends had vanished as quickly as their fortune. The family was to blame, they said. They had squandered their money on selfish pleasures, and had wasted all their savings.

  When the family reached the cottage, there were no servants to see to their needs. The boys farmed to earn the family a living, while the girls worked in the garden to grow their food, and as well maintained the house as best they could.

  The children were simply miserable. Only the youngest girl tried to be cheerful. Like the others, she’d been very upset about the sudden change in family fortunes. But soon she recovered her natural lightheartedness. She went out of her way to amuse her brothers and father, and urged her sisters to join her when she was dancing or singing. But her sisters wanted no part of her silliness, as they called it. If she could be content with such wretched conditions, she didn’t deserve anything better, they said. But this was not true. She was far prettier than any of her sisters, and much more clever as well. Indeed, she was pretty and clever enough to be a real princess, and that is why they always called her Beauty.

  Two years passed, and the pain of their poverty had become less sharp. Then one day, their father received news that one of his ships had not been lost after all, but had just arrived in port with a rich cargo. All the children clamored to return to town immediately, thinking that they had become rich again. But their father advised caution. Having news of gold was different from having the gold itself, he said. He would travel to town and make inquiries, but they must stay here and harvest the crops. But the children’s excitement would not be dampened, and they plied their father with requests for presents from town. Only Beauty held herself back. Her father noticed her silence and said, “And what present should I bring for you, Beauty?”

  “Only yourself,” said Beauty. “To see you safely back will be my present.”

  “But I must bring you something,” said her father. “It would give me such pleasure.”

  “All right, father,” Beauty replied, “if you insist. When you’re almost home again, if you see a rosebush, pick a rose for me. I haven’t seen a rose since we came to live in the forest, and I do love roses very, very much.”

  The merchant left that afternoon, and his trip to town was long but uneventful. When he arrived, his cautious hopes were disappointed. His former partners had thought he was dead and had divided the ship’s cargo among themselves. He spent six months trying to salvage something for his family, but recovered enough to pay for his trip, and no more.

  It was winter by the time he made the trip home, and the weather became his enemy. The road was lost under the snow, and the blizzard made him blind. After three weeks of dreary slogging, he finally reached the forest, and was only a few hours from home. But his face stung, and the snow was too deep for his horse to go on, so he crawled into the hollow trunk of a large tree and had the worst night’s sleep he’d ever had.

  When he awoke, he found the snow had buried every path. As he tried to orient himself, it began to snow again, a thick, wet snow that made riding impossible and hid his footprints seconds after he made them. He struggled forward, and slipped and fell many times. But after a while, the snowfall thinned out, and walking became easier. Then it stopped snowing altogether, and he saw bare patches of ground on the path. Then the path veered suddenly to the left, and the merchant found himself standing in front of a large boulevard. The road was lined with orange trees and led up to a princely castle!

  The merchant was dumbfounded. How could he have lived in the forest for two whole years without knowing that this castle even existed? Stranger still, how was it that snow fell everywhere else, but none fell in the boulevard leading to the castle? The trees lining the road were laden with fruit and flowers, and the breeze was pleasantly warm.

  His first thought was to introduce himself to his neighbors. But the rooms of the castle were all empty, and a strange silence blanketed everything. Even his footsteps made no sound. The castle was also very warm, and he found himself growing sleepier with each step. So when he came upon a small room with a glowing fire and a soft couch, he eagerly sat down to rest. It was only a matter of seconds before he was sleeping soundly.

  Several hours later, he woke up to find a plate of hot and delicious-smelling food on the table by his couch. He began to eat greedily, and didn’t stop until the plate was clean. Then he lay back on the couch and slept until late afternoon. When he woke up again, he found a small plate of cakes and fruit on the table, and wasted no time devouring this snack. But when he had finished eating, the silence weighed on him more and more until he felt he was drowning in it. So he leapt from the couch and hurried outside into the palace garden.

  “Here, at least, there is life,” he said to himself, as he padded along the fresh green grass, smiling at the chaotic chant of the birds, and the proud parade of color that the flowers made in their bed. Everywhere else was winter; here was the heart of spring. The air itself seemed young and strong and playful.

  A thought occurred to the merchant. “Perhaps some magical power has come to rescue us from poverty! I will leave this minute and bring the children here. They will be delighted with their new home.”

  He turned and marched toward the stable to fetch his horse. But suddenly his path lay between two huge rosebushes, and the roses were so rich and red, and their smell so delicate and cool, that the merchant came to an abrupt halt, and stared in wonder.

  “I didn’t know such beauty as this was possible in the world,” he said to himself. And then he was reminded of his promise to Beauty. He felt sure that a rose from this bush would be the most precious gift he had ever given his daughter. He put his nose to one of the flowers and breathed in deeply. Then he gently stroked its glistening petals. And then, he plucked the flower from the bush.

  No sooner was the rose in his hand than he heard a tremendous cracking sound behind him, as though a thousand trunks and branches had been broken all at once. He turned and saw a terrible Beast that had ripped apart the rosebush and stood snorting and stamping and growling and glaring at the merchant. Then the Beast began to speak in a dark, hollow voice that sounded like faraway thunder shaped into words.

  “Who gave you the right to pick that flower?” The merchant trembled in fear. “I let you sleep on my couch. I let you eat at my table. I let you walk in my garden. But that was not enough. You had to steal from my rosebush as well. You had to take something that had not been given.” The beast stamped and snorted again, and then stood absolutely still. Finally, in a voice so soft, it seemed the Beast was only mouthing the words, he said, “Who gave you the right to pick that flower?”

  The merchant was so frightened that he dropped to his knees, and cried: “Please forgive me! I wanted to thank you for the food and for allowing me to rest, but I couldn’t find you in the palace. I didn’t think you’d be so angry about my picking one of your roses. It’s only a rose, after all.”

  The Beast stared hatred at the merchant. “How would you know what the flower is
worth? It isn’t yours to value. As to thanking me, you could have thanked me well enough by leaving my rosebush untouched. These roses were the pride of my garden. You have destroyed them, and for that you must die.”

  The merchant began to cry. “If only Beauty had known what she was asking when she asked for her rose!” he thought to himself. Then he began to tell the Beast his story, about his fall from riches to poverty, and why he had made the trip to town, and the request that Beauty had made.

  “A king’s ransom wouldn’t have bought the presents my other children asked for, and I will have to disappoint them. But when I saw your roses, I thought at least I could make Beauty happy. Please forgive me. I meant no harm.”

  The Beast turned his stare away from the merchant and looked down at the ground. He seemed less angry now. After a few seconds, he said, “I will forgive you...” He paused before continuing. “I will forgive you--if you give me one of your daughters.”

  The merchant shut his eyes in despair. “I could never trade my life for one of theirs. And I couldn’t lie to one of them, and promise her a bright future, when all the while I was leading her to her death.”

  “You are not to lie,” replied the Beast. “You have to tell the truth. If one of them comes, she must come willingly. I will not accept her otherwise. Tomorrow you will go home. I will give you one month. See if you have a daughter who is brave enough, or who loves you enough, to come back here and save your life. If none is willing, you must come alone after the month is done. You will belong to me, then, and never see your family again. And don’t even think of cheating me: for you, nowhere is safe, and hiding is impossible.”

  The merchant agreed to tell his daughters of the Beast’s proposal, although he couldn’t imagine that any would agree to it, and promised to return in a month. Then he asked the Beast if he could leave that day, rather than wait until the next.

  “You will leave tomorrow,” said the Beast. “Tomorrow your horse will be ready for you. Now, go and eat the supper I have prepared, and wait for my orders.”

  The merchant crept sullenly back to his room. His supper was waiting, and to anyone but the merchant it would have been delicious. But the merchant was so sad and scared, he had no taste for food. He ate a few bites from some of the dishes, but only because he thought the Beast would be angry if he didn’t. As soon as he had swallowed his last mouthful, he heard the thunderous steps of the Beast pounding towards his room.

  “Did you eat well?” asked the Beast. The merchant assured him that he had. Then the Beast reminded the merchant of their agreement, and again warned him to tell his daughters exactly what to expect.

  “Tomorrow,” he added, “you are not to get up until sunrise, when you will hear a golden bell begin to ring. Your breakfast will be here on the table, and your horse will be waiting in the courtyard. A month from now, the horse will bring you back. Don’t worry; it knows the way. There is one last thing: in the morning, before you leave, please pick a rose from the rosebush and carry it home to Beauty.”

  Sleep did not come to the merchant that night. He waited despondently in bed until the sun’s first light shot into the sky and the golden bell signalled that his breakfast was ready. He ate quickly, and then ran out of the palace to the path between the rosebushes, where he picked Beauty’s rose. Finally, he mounted his horse, and began the ride home. The horse needed no guidance from the merchant, and galloped much more quickly than he’d ever done before. However, the merchant was far too gloomy to notice either of these things. He was still wrapped in gloom when he arrived at the cottage.

  Because he’d been away so long, his children had been very worried about him, and now they rushed outside to welcome him. They were also hungry for news of his trip. He was on a magnificent horse with a splendid mantle, and so they dared to hope for the best. The merchant held back the truth at first, dropping a hint only when he handed the rose to Beauty. He said, “I have brought you what you asked, Beauty. At what cost, I don’t know.”

  But soon he had to tell the whole story. The children’s excitement began to fade immediately, and by the story’s end, they were all very unhappy. The girls despaired at the thought of losing their father. The boys took a different approach, and said their father should break his promise to the Beast. They began to make plans to kill the Beast if ever he should appear. But the merchant said that he was an honest man, and would not break his promise. Then the girls turned on Beauty, and said that if she had asked for a sensible gift, none of this would have happened. Why, they asked, should everyone suffer for Beauty’s mistake? Beauty looked at her sisters sadly.

  “If you think I did something wrong,” she said, “I’m sure you are mistaken. My wish was an innocent wish, and I could not know the future. But it’s true: we’re being punished only because of my request. If I hadn’t asked father for a rose, we’d have no quarrel with the Beast. Therefore, I will gladly take the punishment, and return with father in a month’s time to help him keep his promise.”

  Beauty’s father would not hear of it, and the children declared they would try all means to prevent her from leaving. But Beauty was firm. When the month was nearly up, she collected all her possessions together and shared them out among her sisters. Finally the fateful day arrived. Beauty pretended to be cheerful, and hid her fear beneath an encouraging smile. Her father begged her to change her mind, but she would have none of it. As soon as they were secure in the saddle, the horse took off, and it galloped so quickly and smoothly that Beauty felt as though she was sitting on the back of a great bird. Indeed, she would have found the trip thrilling had she not been so afraid of its outcome.

  During the last leg of their journey, colored lights began to glow in the trees around them, and the sky in front suddenly erupted in a display of fireworks. As well, the air lost its bitter chill and grew pleasantly warm. Then they reached the boulevard lined with orange trees. On each side of the boulevard, the Beast had placed statues, and the statues were holding flaming torches. At the end of the boulevard, the castle shone with unimaginable light. It seemed that while everywhere else was night, here it was the middle of the day. Strains of music reached them from the courtyard of the castle.

  Beauty wavered between fear and wonder. “It’s hard to believe I’ve come here to die,” she said. “Everything is so splendid. The Beast must be very hungry to make such a fuss over the arrival of his dinner.”

  They dismounted at the palace steps, and her father led Beauty through the castle to the room with the couch and fire. A wonderful supper lay ready on the table. Having walked through so much of the castle without seeing anything of the Beast, Beauty was less frightened than she had been, and the sight of food reminded her of how hungry she was. Both father and daughter enjoyed a long, hearty, and almost cheerful meal. But no sooner had they cleared their plates and laid down their forks than they heard the booming steps of the Beast approaching their room.

  Beauty grabbed her father’s hand in terror, but found no comfort there: he was just as frightened as she was. So she made herself brave, and when the Beast appeared, she looked him in the face, although her lip was quivering in fear.

  This seemed to please the Beast. When he spoke, his voice was black and empty and growling, but he didn’t seem to be angry.

  “Good evening, old man. Good evening, Beauty,” he said.

  “Good evening, Beast,” said Beauty.

  “Have you come willingly?”

  “My father is a good man. He did not force me here. I chose to come.”

  “Will you stay willingly?”

  “Yes. If it means you will spare my father’s life, I will stay willingly.”

  The Beast gave Beauty a long, piercing look. Then he turned his glance aside. “You please me very much,” he said. “You have come freely. You may stay in your father’s place.” The Beast then looked at her father. “You have a very brave daughter, old man
. You need fear nothing more from me. Tomorrow at sunrise, when the golden bell begins to ring, you will find your breakfast on the table and your horse in the courtyard. But remember: you must have no hope of ever returning here while I am alive.”

  Then the Beast turned to Beauty and said, “I have some things of value in the next room. I would like to make a present of them to your family. You will find two large trunks on the floor. Fill them as full as you can.” The Beast then wished them both goodnight and left Beauty and her father to themselves.

  Beauty was anxious to obey the Beast’s orders; perhaps if she continued to please him, he would not kill her. As well, she was glad to spend her last moments with her father in the happy task of selecting presents for her family. So Beauty hurried her father into the next room. Both were dazzled by the treasure that they found there.

  Beauty was first drawn to a rack on which dozens of ballroom gowns were hanging. She stroked them lightly, thinking how wonderful her sisters would look in them. Then she opened a cupboard and stepped back in amazement. Every shelf was piled high with gleaming jewels. She picked out the ones her sisters would like the most and packed them along with the dresses she had chosen for them. Then Beauty opened a final cupboard. It contained only a large wooden chest, but when she lifted the lid she found it was full of gold.

  “We’ve been too hasty, father,” she called out. “This cupboard has something much more valuable than any of the things we’ve packed.” So they unpacked the dresses and jewels, and transferred the gold from the wooden chest to the trunks. But still there was room. So they packed the dresses and jewels back in the trunks--but still there was room. So Beauty went back to the cupboard with the jewels and stripped the shelves of even their amethyst, amber, and jade. And still there was room in the trunks.

  “This is a trick!” cried the merchant. “Not even an elephant could carry this trunk! The Beast is making fun of us. He knows I can’t even move the trunk from this room, let alone transport it home.”

  “Let’s wait until morning and see what happens,” replied Beauty. “He kept his word about sparing your life. I’m sure he will keep his word this time as well.” Then Beauty closed the trunks and led her father back to his room. They were both very tired, and the warmth of the fire cut short their talk and soon they fell asleep.

  The golden bell woke them the next day, and the merchant ate his breakfast eagerly. The trunks had been removed from the room next door, and the merchant was now hopeful that the Beast was as generous as Beauty had supposed. This also made him hope that the Beast would allow him to come back soon and visit Beauty. But Beauty was sure that her father was leaving forever, and so was sad and didn’t touch her food.

  The bell soon rang a second time, the sign for the merchant to leave. Beauty accompanied him to the courtyard, where two horses were pawing the ground, impatient to be on their way. One horse bore the two trunks; the merchant would ride the other. Beauty clung to her father, but the merchant’s horse tossed its head from side to side and whinnied wildly. The merchant attempted to calm the horse by mounting it, but no sooner was he in the saddle than the horse bolted away. Seconds later, the horse had vanished from sight.

  Beauty hung her head, and slowly returned to her room. She sat on the couch with her hands tightly clasped, and her arms held stiff against her body. She felt small and frightened and alone.

  Eventually, she cried herself to sleep. Then she dreamed that she was walking by a stream in the woods, with tears flowing freely down her face. Suddenly, a young prince came out of the woods. Beauty had never known a man so handsome, and when he spoke, his voice was warm and full and it seemed to cradle her heart. “Hush, now,” he said. “No more tears. You think that all is lost, but that’s not true. Listen to me. You are on the brink of a happiness greater than any you have known. All your wishes will come true. I love you, Beauty, with all my heart. But I am a prisoner, like you, and only you can find me. Will you find me, Beauty? That is where your happiness lies. In making me happy, you will discover your true self, just as I will recover mine, if you allow me to love you and make you happy forever.”

  “How will I find you?” asked Beauty.

  “You will find me through an act of kindness that even you, the kindest heart in the world, have not yet dreamed of. Always listen to your heart, Beauty. Meanwhile, be thankful for what you have, and remember that things are often not as they seem. But promise me one thing: promise that you won’t give up, that you will search until you find me and rescue me from my unhappy prison.”

  Before she could give the prince her word, her dream suddenly changed, and she found herself in a huge ball room with an elegantly-dressed woman. The woman said, “You mourn the past. Instead, look to the future. Only the future can heal the wounds of the past. But don’t let yourself be deceived by appearances. Things are not always as they seem, Beauty.”

  Beauty’s dreams were much more pleasant than her life alone in a castle with a hideous Beast, and she had no wish to wake up. But a little clock whispered her name twelve times and roused her from her bed. She washed her face, which still had traces of earlier tears. Then she ate the lunch that had been set on the table for her. That was quick work: eating alone never takes very long. Soon she was curled up on the sofa, and thinking of the Prince who was imprisoned in her dream.

  “He said that I would make him happy,” she said to herself. “All I have to do is find him. Maybe that horrible Beast is keeping him prisoner somewhere in the castle. But how can an act of kindness set anyone free? And why did they both warn me not to trust my own eyes? I don’t understand any of this. However, it was only a dream, so none of it matters anyway. I wonder what there is to do in this castle.”

  She got up and began to wander through the castle, exploring room after room. The first one she came to had mirrors lining every wall, and Beauty thought she had never seen a prettier room. Then she saw something hanging from the chandelier in the middle of the room. It was a locket hanging from its chain. She took it down and tried it around her neck. It suited her perfectly, she thought, as she admired it in the mirror. Then she examined the locket more carefully and opened its lid. There, staring back at her, was a tiny portrait of the Prince she had dreamed about this morning! So the dream must have been more than just a dream!

  She tucked the locket under her blouse so that it lay as near to her heart as possible. Then she went into the next room. This was a picture gallery, and she guessed that the paintings were portraits of all the people who had ever owned the castle. Where she had entered, the paintings were very old, but as she walked up the gallery, they gradually became more and more recent. Then she came to the very last painting in the room, and it was a life-sized portrait of her Prince! It was so well painted that she could almost believe it was the Prince himself staring down at her, smiling and urging her silently to find his hiding place.

  It took Beauty great effort to tear herself away from the portrait. But, she reasoned, the Prince could not be hiding in the painting, and so she must continue to explore. The next room she entered was a music room. There were more instruments there than she could count, and she played and sang until she was quite tired. Then she came to a library that contained every book she had ever read, and every book she had ever wanted to read, and so many more that she thought it would take a lifetime to read only the titles.

  It was beginning to grow dark, and the candles in their diamond and ruby candlesticks burst into flame all by themselves. Beauty found she was hungry and so she made her way back to her room, wondering what her supper would be. As it turned out, the food on the table was exactly what she wanted. But even though it seemed delicious, she couldn’t enjoy the food, because apart from the sounds that she herself made, there was nothing but stony silence. And although she had amused herself well that afternoon, she had no one to talk to and share her experiences with.

 
Then she heard the great crashing steps of the Beast in the hall, and she began to tremble, wondering if these would be her final moments. But when he appeared, he didn’t seem fierce or menacing, and merely said, “Good evening, Beauty,” before he sat down. Then he asked her about how she had spent her afternoon. Although she was still nervous, Beauty was glad to tell the Beast about the rooms she had explored.

  “Could you ever be happy living here, Beauty?” the Beast asked.

  “Everything here is very beautiful,” she said. “I would have to be very hard to please not to like it here.”

  “Ah,” said the Beast. And then he began to tell her about some other rooms in the castle that might interest her. They talked for about an hour, and Beauty began to think the Beast was not so dreadful as he had first appeared. At length he rose from his chair and made ready to leave. But when he reached the door, he paused, and turned his body half a turn towards her. He looked at the floor, and in a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?”

  Beauty gasped. “I don’t know what to say!” she cried. She was terrified that if she refused him, the Beast would fly into a rage.

  “Say what your heart is saying,” he replied. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  “Then no thank you,” said Beauty very quickly.

  The Beast nodded his head. “Then... goodnight, Beauty,” he said.

  Beauty was relieved that he had taken her refusal so calmly. “Goodnight, Beast,” she said. Soon after he left, she collapsed on the bed and fell asleep, so tired was she from the day. And at once she was dreaming of her Prince, but tonight he seemed very sad. “Oh, Beauty,” he said, “How can you be so cruel? How long must I live out my life in this way?”

  Then Beauty’s dream changed, and changed again, but her Prince was in every scene. And when she awoke the next morning, Beauty raced to the picture gallery to see if the portrait on the wall was really the same as her dream Prince. As she gazed up at the picture, and it stared down at her, she was certain the two princes were the same.

  This morning the fountains were sparkling like diamonds in the bright sunshine, so Beauty decided to spend the morning in the garden. Everything seemed strangely familiar to her. She walked along a stream that led into some woods, and soon she came to the exact place she had met the Prince in her dream. Now she was sure he must be a prisoner of the Beast.

  She returned to her room at noon, and after she had eaten a small lunch, she decided to explore more of the castle. One room that she found was full of fabric of every kind, from huge bolts of heavy curtain material to small pieces of silk for making artificial flowers. Another room was full of rare birds. Some were so tame they perched on her hand.

  “Oh!” she cried in delight. “You are so adorable! I wish your room were nearer to mine, so I could hear you sing each morning.”

  Then she opened the door to leave, and was staggered to find that the room next door was her own. “Now, that’s strange,” she said to herself. “I thought I was on the other side of the palace!”

  Further on, she found another bird-room. This one had talking birds like parrots and cockatoos that even knew Beauty’s name. She was so charmed by the parrots that she took two of them back to her room, and they chatted away while she ate. When she was done, the Beast arrived and spent his hour with Beauty. Then he went to leave, but once again he stopped when he reached the door. In the same quiet voice as before, he asked, “Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?”

  “I’m sorry, Beast,” she said.

  The Beast said goodnight and left her alone. Beauty went to bed and dreamed again of her elusive prince.

  Beauty spent the next day, and the next, and many days thereafter, exploring the castle and visiting the garden. One of her favorite rooms was one she hadn’t liked at all the first time she found it. The room was round and completely empty except for eight chairs. The chairs each faced a large window, but each window was covered with a black curtain, making it impossible to see outside. The second time she stumbled upon this room, she wouldn’t have bothered going in, but she was tired, and so decided to rest in one of the chairs. The curtains opened immediately, and Beauty was treated to a performance of music and dance she found enchanting. Then she tried each of the other seven chairs in turn, and whenever she sat down, a different show would appear. This room made her days much less lonely.

  Every evening, the Beast would come and spend his hour with Beauty, and he would always stop at the door as he was leaving and ask, “Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?” And she would always reply, “I’m sorry, Beast.” Now that she knew him better, she was sure that her nightly refusal left him feeling very sad. This troubled her. But then she would go to sleep and dream her happy dreams of the Prince, and all thoughts of the Beast would disappear. The only thing that troubled her then was the constant reminder that things were often not what they seemed to be, and that she should always listen carefully to her heart. She couldn’t understand how this advice would be of help in her search for the Prince.

  So the days went by, some slowly and some more quickly, until many months had passed since the day she had left her family. One night, the Beast could see that Beauty was very sad, and he said, “What is it, Beauty? What’s the matter?”

  By now, Beauty had lost all fear of the Beast. She paid no attention to his terrible face and raspy voice. She knew the Beast was a gentle, caring creature. So Beauty answered truthfully. She wanted to go home and see her family again.

  The Beast lowered his head and closed his eyes. He was crying softly to himself. “Oh, Beauty!” he said. “Is this the voice of your heart? Haven’t I tried to make you happy? Do you hate me so much?”

  “No,” said Beauty in a soft voice, “I don’t hate you at all. I am really quite happy here, but I miss my father and my brothers and sisters. If I could just visit for a couple of months, I would be so happy. Then I would come back here and stay with you for the rest of my life. I promise.”

  The Beast had stopped his tears but was sighing loudly while she spoke. He said, “Beauty, I cannot refuse you your wishes, whatever they may be. I was never your jailer; you were always free to leave the castle. Anything you do, you must do willingly.”

  The Beast climbed to his feet. “I must go. In the next room there are four boxes. Take what you need for the journey. But remember your promise. At the end of two months, you must come back. If you don’t, I will think you have abandoned me, and will surely die of loneliness.”

  The Beast then reached in his pocket and took out a ring. “Take this,” he said. “When you want to come back, bid your family goodbye, and when you’re in bed put this ring on your finger and say these words: `I wish to return to my palace, and to see my Beast again.’ The ring will bring you home; you’ll have no need of a horse and carriage. Now I will say goodnight. Fear nothing, and sleep well. Soon, you’ll be back in your father’s house again.”

  As soon as the Beast left, she began to pack. It was only when she had grown quite tired of packing that the boxes suddenly seemed to be full. Then she went to bed, but was too excited to fall asleep right away. Finally, she drifted off and began to dream of her Prince. But this was not a happy dream. The Prince was lying on the bank of a stream and he seemed weak and listless, not at all himself.

  “What’s the matter?” cried Beauty.

  The Prince raised his head a little and looked at her sullenly. “You said you would rescue me, but now you’re leaving. The only life I have is the one in your dreams, and you are taking those away with you. Are you leaving me to die, Beauty?”

  “Oh, Prince. Don’t be so sad. I’m worried about my father. I want to tell him that I’m safe and well and happy,” said Beauty. “The Beast said he would die of loneliness if I didn’t come back, and I promised him that I would.”

  “What would it matter if the Beast died? Surely you don’t
care about him!” said the Prince.

  “I certainly do!” cried Beauty indignantly. “He is the kindest creature I have ever met. It’s not his fault that he’s ugly, you know. If dying meant saving him from pain, I would gladly die.”

  Just then something startled her from her sleep. She could hear voices just beyond the door. But that was not her door, and this was not her room! Where was she? She got up and dressed herself quickly while she looked around the room. There were the boxes she’d packed the night before! Then she heard her father’s voice and rushed out of the room and threw her arms around him.

  Her brothers and sisters were amazed at her sudden appearance, for they had thought they’d never see Beauty again. They gave her all the news about their lives, and she gave them all the news about hers, and the talk was very excited, until Beauty dampened things by saying that she was staying for only two months. But this gave her the chance to ask her father something. It was a question she’d been thinking about for a long time now. She asked him what the meaning of her dreams might be, and why her Prince was constantly saying that things were often not the way they seemed.

  Her father stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You say that the Beast loves you and wants to marry you. You also say that he’s gentle and kind, and is deserving of your love. I think the Prince is telling you to marry the Beast, in spite of all his ugliness.”

  Beauty thought her father was probably right. Still, in her dreams, the Prince had not asked Beauty to marry the Beast, but to marry him, and if only her Prince were real, she would marry him in an instant. But she didn’t want to think about this now; not now, or any day in the next two months. She wanted to have fun with her sisters, so she banished the Beast from her mind.

  It was true that her family was rich, and lived in town, and had a lot of friends. But Beauty soon found that her new life wasn’t nearly as fun as her old one was. She often thought of the castle and surprised herself a little when she realized how happy she had been there. As well, she had not once dreamed of the Prince since her arrival, and this made her sad.

  Now that the merchant’s children were older, they led their own lives, and ties between them were not as close as they had been. So when two months had passed, Beauty was ready to leave and go back to the Beast’s castle. But one child or another, who had neglected Beauty during her visit, would beg her to stay on, and so Beauty’s departure was delayed. Then one night she had a terrible dream. She was walking in a lonely part of the palace gardens when she heard something groaning. She raced down the path and found the Beast behind some bushes in a cave. He was stretched out on his side and was listless and weak. He scolded her gently for reducing him to this state. Then an elegantly-dressed woman appeared and said, “You are only just in time to save his life. When you broke your promise to return, you shattered his hope.”

  This dream so frightened Beauty that the next morning she told her family she planned to leave that night without fail. Before she went to bed, she said goodbye to everyone, and as soon as she lay beneath the covers, she put on her ring and said, “I wish to return to my palace, and to see my Beast again.”

  She fell asleep at once and woke up to hear a little clock whispering, “Beauty, Beauty,” twelve times. She opened her eyes and smiled happily, for she was back in her own room again. She got dressed and ran through the castle and out into the garden. Everything was just the same, and the whole castle seemed happy to see her again. But in spite of that, the day was longer than any she could remember. She was so anxious about the Beast that every hour seemed to have twice the number of minutes it usually had.

  Finally it was supper time. But no supper arrived. Beauty hardly cared about that, though. It was the Beast she was concerned with. Beauty waited for the Beast to appear as he always did. But tonight he did not come. Where was the familiar crashing step? Did he not know the time? She waited and waited and still the Beast was missing. Finally, she could no longer stand it, and raced down into the garden, determined to search for him until she found him. She ran up and down the paths, and called for him constantly, and looked in every place. But no one answered her calls, and there was no trace of the Beast. Finally, she stopped to catch her breath, and noticed that there was something strangely familiar about this part of the garden. This was the path she had seen in her dreams. In the distance she saw the bushes that hid the cave. She ran down the path, pulled the bushes aside, and there, lying on the ground, was the Beast. He seemed to be asleep. Beauty rushed up to him and began to stroke his head. But the Beast didn’t move and his eyes remained closed.

  Beauty jumped back in horror. “He’s dead,” she sobbed, “and I have killed him.”

  But he seemed to be breathing little shallow breaths, so she fetched some water from the fountain and splashed it on his face. At last, but slowly and with great pain, the Beast opened his eyes.

  “Thank goodness,” whispered Beauty. She took his hand and said, “I’m so glad you’re alive. I didn’t know how much I loved you until now, when I almost lost you.”

  “Do you love me, Beauty? Can you really love such ugliness?” asked the Beast.

  “I see the kind heart beneath. It is your heart that I love. The rest is nothing to me,” said Beauty.

  Tears grew large in the Beast’s eyes. “Supper is ready,” he said. “Go. I will join you in a while.”

  Beauty went back to her room and ate her supper. She was very thoughtful. She loved the Prince, that she knew. But the Prince lived only in her dreams. Even if he were somehow real, he was hidden by a magic she was powerless to undo. She also loved the Beast, whose heart was as good and strong and honest as the Prince’s. But the Beast lived in the waking part of the world, and his breaking heart was passionately real.

  The Beast arrived just as she had finished, as he always did. They talked about her visit, and her family, and the town. “But I realized something when I was there,” Beauty said. “I realized that this castle is my home. I’m so glad to be home!”

  “I’m glad to see you home,” said the Beast.

  Then he got up and made to say goodnight. But at the door he paused, and then he turned his body half a turn towards her. He looked at the floor, and in the same quiet voice he always had, he asked, “Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?”

  “Yes, Beast,” she said.

  Thunder roared and lightning cracked and then fireworks exploded from every corner of the garden, making night into day. Beauty turned to ask the Beast what this meant, but the Beast had vanished, and in his place stood the Prince of her dreams! Then two ladies came into the room. The first was the elegantly-dressed woman from her dreams. The other was equally elegant, and Beauty didn’t know who to greet first.

  The woman she knew said to her companion, “Queen, this is Beauty. She is the one who has courageously rescued your son from his terrible enchantment. They love each other and are only awaiting your consent before getting married.”

  “Then they should wait no longer,” said the Queen. “How can I ever thank you for giving my son back his real appearance?” She kissed Beauty on the forehead and hugged her son.

  Then the other one, who was a Fairy, said to Beauty, “Shall I send for your brothers and sisters so they can dance at your wedding?”

  Beauty was so happy, she could barely speak. In the presence of her family and the Queen, she was married to the Prince the very next day, and the two of them lived happily ever after.