'Original' fiction: The Girl in the Wood
I would say 'with apologies to Charles Perrault', but I'm not sorry. Sleeping Beauty, filtered through Nathan's Brain.
Once upon a time there were a king and a queen, who were very sorry that they had no children-so sorry that it cannot be told.
At last, however, the Queen had a daughter. There was a very fine christening; and the Princess had for her godmothers all the faeries they could find in the whole kingdom (there were seven of them), so that every one of them might confer a gift upon her, as was the custom of faeries in those days. By this means the Princess had all the perfections imaginable.
After the christening was over, the company returned to the King’s palace, where was prepared a great feast for the faeries. There was placed before every one of them a magnificent cover with a case of massive gold, wherein were a spoon, and a knife and fork, all of pure gold set with diamonds and rubies. But as they were all sitting down at table they saw a very old faerie come into the hall. She had not been invited, because for more than fifty years she had not been out of a certain tower, and she was believed to be either dead or enchanted.
The King ordered her a cover, but he would not give her a case of gold as the others had, because he felt it her fault for arriving late. The old faerie knew that she was slighted, and muttered threats between her teeth. One of the young faeries who sat near heard her, and, judging that she might give the little Princess some unlucky gift, hid herself behind the curtains as soon as they left the table. She hoped that she might speak last and undo as much as she could the evil which the old faerie might do; but she would not override the gift entirely, for the old faerie was her sister, and she loved her.
In the meanwhile all the faeries began to give their gifts to the Princess. The youngest and most frivolous gave her for her gift that she should be the most beautiful person in the world; the next and cleverest, that she should have the wit of an angel; the third and most concerned with decorum, that she should be able to do everything she did gracefully; the fourth and most enamoured of art, that she should dance perfectly; the fifth and most enamoured of eloquence, that she should speak like Cicero and sing like a nightingale; and the sixth and most enamoured of good music, that she should play all kinds of musical instruments to the fullest perfection.
The old faerie’s turn coming next, her head shaking more with disappointment than with age, she said, without thinking, that the Princess should pierce her hand with a spindle and die of the wound. This terrible gift made the whole company tremble, and everybody fell a-crying.
At this very instant the young faerie came from behind the curtains and said these words in a loud voice:-
‘Assure yourselves, O King and Queen, that your daughter shall not die of this disaster. It is true; I have no power or desire to undo entirely what my elder has done. The Princess shall indeed pierce her hand with a spindle; but, instead of dying, she shall only fall into a deep sleep, which shall last a hundred years, at the end of which a king’s son shall come and awake her.’
The King, to avoid the misfortune foretold by the old faerie, issued orders forbidding any one, on pain of death, to spin with a distaff and spindle, or to have a spindle in his house-which was a danger, as the land’s economy was based chiefly around wool and the export of various fabrics. About fifteen or sixteen years after, the land’s economy having fallen into utter ruin for the King’s whims and his spite towards the old faerie, the King and Queen being absent at one of their country villas, the young Princess was one day running up and down the palace; she went from room to room, and at last she came into a little garret on the top of the tower, where a good old woman, alone, was spinning with her spindle. This good woman had, in order to support her poor family, been forced to disobey the King’s orders against spindles.
‘What are you doing there, my good woman?’ said the Princess.
‘I am spinning, my pretty child,’ said the old woman, who was too old to remember who the Princess was.
‘Ha!’ said the Princess, ‘this is very pretty; how do you do it? Give it to me. Let me see if I can do it.’
She had no sooner taken it into her hand than, either because she was too quick and heedless, or because the decree of the faerie had so ordained, it ran into her hand, and she fell down in a swoon.
The good old woman, not knowing what to do, cried out for help. People came in from every quarter; they threw water upon the face of the Princess, unlaced her, struck her on the palms of her hands, and rubbed her temples with cologne water; but nothing would bring her to herself.
Then the King, who came up at hearing the noise, remembered what the faeries had foretold; he had the good old woman put to death despite her protests and pleas for her family. He knew very well that this must come to pass, since the faeries had foretold it, and he caused the Princess to be carried into the finest room in his palace, and to be laid upon a bed all embroidered with gold and silver. One would have taken her for a little angel, she was so beautiful; for her swooning had not dimmed the brightness of her complexion: her cheeks were carnation, and her lips coral. It is true her eyes were shut, but she was heard to breathe softly, which satisfied those about her that she was not dead.
The King gave orders that they should let her sleep quietly till the time came for her to awake. The young faerie who had saved her life by condemning her to sleep a hundred years was in the Kingdom of Matakin in the Faerie realm, standing in judgment (for every other faerie of that land was embroiled in some criminal or civil suit, as faeries are wont to become so embroiled), when this accident befell the Princess; but she was instantly informed of it by a little dwarf, who had seven-leagued boots, that is, boots with which he could stride over seven leagues of ground at once. The faerie started off at once, and arrived, about an hour later, in a fiery chariot drawn by dragons.
The King handed her out of the chariot, and she had no choice but to pretend to approve of everything he had done (for she feared greatly lest he have her imprisoned for the rest of her endless life); but as she had very great foresight, she thought that when the Princess should awake she might not know what to do with herself, if she was all alone in this old palace. This was what she did: she touched with her wand everything in the palace (except the King and Queen)-governesses, maids of honour, ladies of the bedchamber, gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, undercooks, kitchen maids, guards with their porters, pages, and footmen; she likewise touched all the horses which were in the stables, the cart horses, the hunters and the saddle horses, the grooms, the great dogs in the outward court, and little Mopsey, too, the Princess’s spaniel, which was lying on the bed.
As soon as she touched them they all fell asleep, not to awake again until their mistress did, that they might be ready to wait upon her when she wanted them (for the King was very stupid, and could not set up any more sensible arrangement; and the young faerie did not have much experience in these matters). The very spits at the fire, as full as they could hold of partridges and pheasants, fell asleep, and the fire itself as well. All this was done in a moment. Faeries are not long in doing their work.
And now the King and Queen, having kissed their dear child without waking her, went out of the palace and sent forth orders that nobody should come near it.
These orders were not necessary; for in a quarter of an hour’s time there grew up all round about the park such a vast number of trees, great and small, bushes and brambles, twining one within another, that neither man nor beast could pass through; so that nothing could be seen but the very top of the towers of the palace; and that, too, only from afar off. Every one knew that this also was the work of the faerie in order that while the Princess slept she should have nothing to fear from curious people.
After a hundred years the son of the King then reigning, who was of another family from that of the sleeping Princess, was a-hunting on that side of the country, and he asked what those towers were which he saw in the middle of a great thick wood. Every one answered according as they had heard. Some said that it was an old haunted castle, others that all the witches of the country held their midnight revels there, but the common opinion was that it was an ogre’s dwelling, and that he carried to it all the little children he could catch, so as to eat them up at his leisure, without any one being able to follow him, for he alone had the power to make his way through the wood.
The Prince did not know what to believe, and presently a very aged countryman spoke to him thus:
‘May it please Your Royal Highness, more than fifty years since I heard from my father that there was then in this castle the most beautiful princess that was ever seen; that she must sleep there a hundred years, and that she should be waked by a king’s son, for whom she was reserved.’
The young Prince on hearing this was all on fire. He thought, without weighing the matter, that he could put an end to this rare adventure; and, pushed on by love and the desire of glory, resolved at once to look into it.
As soon as he began to get near to the wood, all the great trees, the bushes, and brambles gave way of themselves to let him pass through. He walked up to the castle which he saw at the end of a large avenue; and you can imagine he was a good deal surprised when he saw none of his people following him, because the trees closed again as soon as he had passed through them. However, he did not cease from continuing his way; a young prince in search of glory is ever valiant.
He came into a spacious outer court, and what he saw was enough to freeze him with horror. A frightful silence reigned over all; the image of death was everywhere, and there was nothing to be seen but what seemed to be the outstretched bodies of dead men and animals. He, however, very well knew, by the ruby faces and pimpled noses of the porters, that they were only asleep; and their goblets, wherein still remained some drops of wine, showed plainly that they had fallen asleep while drinking their wine.
He then crossed a court paved with marble, went up the stairs, and came into the guard chamber, where guards were standing in their ranks, with their muskets upon their shoulders, and snoring with all their might. He went through several rooms full of gentlemen and ladies, some standing and others sitting, but all were asleep. He came into a gilded chamber, where he saw upon a bed, the curtains of which were all open, the most beautiful sight ever beheld-a princess who appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and whose bright and resplendent beauty had something divine in it. He approached with trembling and admiration, and fell down upon his knees before her.
Then, as the end of the enchantment was come, the Princess awoke, and looking on him with eyes more tender than could have been expected at first sight, said:-
‘Is it you, my Prince? You have waited a long while.’
But in her heart she was sorely grieved, for, in spite of the faeries’ explicit curses and blessings, she had been hoping, and she knew not why, that the one to kiss her would be a Princess.
Once upon a time there were a king and a queen, who were very sorry that they had no children-so sorry that it cannot be told.
At last, however, the Queen had a daughter. There was a very fine christening; and the Princess had for her godmothers all the faeries they could find in the whole kingdom (there were seven of them), so that every one of them might confer a gift upon her, as was the custom of faeries in those days. By this means the Princess had all the perfections imaginable.
After the christening was over, the company returned to the King’s palace, where was prepared a great feast for the faeries. There was placed before every one of them a magnificent cover with a case of massive gold, wherein were a spoon, and a knife and fork, all of pure gold set with diamonds and rubies. But as they were all sitting down at table they saw a very old faerie come into the hall. She had not been invited, because for more than fifty years she had not been out of a certain tower, and she was believed to be either dead or enchanted.
The King ordered her a cover, but he would not give her a case of gold as the others had, because he felt it her fault for arriving late. The old faerie knew that she was slighted, and muttered threats between her teeth. One of the young faeries who sat near heard her, and, judging that she might give the little Princess some unlucky gift, hid herself behind the curtains as soon as they left the table. She hoped that she might speak last and undo as much as she could the evil which the old faerie might do; but she would not override the gift entirely, for the old faerie was her sister, and she loved her.
In the meanwhile all the faeries began to give their gifts to the Princess. The youngest and most frivolous gave her for her gift that she should be the most beautiful person in the world; the next and cleverest, that she should have the wit of an angel; the third and most concerned with decorum, that she should be able to do everything she did gracefully; the fourth and most enamoured of art, that she should dance perfectly; the fifth and most enamoured of eloquence, that she should speak like Cicero and sing like a nightingale; and the sixth and most enamoured of good music, that she should play all kinds of musical instruments to the fullest perfection.
The old faerie’s turn coming next, her head shaking more with disappointment than with age, she said, without thinking, that the Princess should pierce her hand with a spindle and die of the wound. This terrible gift made the whole company tremble, and everybody fell a-crying.
At this very instant the young faerie came from behind the curtains and said these words in a loud voice:-
‘Assure yourselves, O King and Queen, that your daughter shall not die of this disaster. It is true; I have no power or desire to undo entirely what my elder has done. The Princess shall indeed pierce her hand with a spindle; but, instead of dying, she shall only fall into a deep sleep, which shall last a hundred years, at the end of which a king’s son shall come and awake her.’
The King, to avoid the misfortune foretold by the old faerie, issued orders forbidding any one, on pain of death, to spin with a distaff and spindle, or to have a spindle in his house-which was a danger, as the land’s economy was based chiefly around wool and the export of various fabrics. About fifteen or sixteen years after, the land’s economy having fallen into utter ruin for the King’s whims and his spite towards the old faerie, the King and Queen being absent at one of their country villas, the young Princess was one day running up and down the palace; she went from room to room, and at last she came into a little garret on the top of the tower, where a good old woman, alone, was spinning with her spindle. This good woman had, in order to support her poor family, been forced to disobey the King’s orders against spindles.
‘What are you doing there, my good woman?’ said the Princess.
‘I am spinning, my pretty child,’ said the old woman, who was too old to remember who the Princess was.
‘Ha!’ said the Princess, ‘this is very pretty; how do you do it? Give it to me. Let me see if I can do it.’
She had no sooner taken it into her hand than, either because she was too quick and heedless, or because the decree of the faerie had so ordained, it ran into her hand, and she fell down in a swoon.
The good old woman, not knowing what to do, cried out for help. People came in from every quarter; they threw water upon the face of the Princess, unlaced her, struck her on the palms of her hands, and rubbed her temples with cologne water; but nothing would bring her to herself.
Then the King, who came up at hearing the noise, remembered what the faeries had foretold; he had the good old woman put to death despite her protests and pleas for her family. He knew very well that this must come to pass, since the faeries had foretold it, and he caused the Princess to be carried into the finest room in his palace, and to be laid upon a bed all embroidered with gold and silver. One would have taken her for a little angel, she was so beautiful; for her swooning had not dimmed the brightness of her complexion: her cheeks were carnation, and her lips coral. It is true her eyes were shut, but she was heard to breathe softly, which satisfied those about her that she was not dead.
The King gave orders that they should let her sleep quietly till the time came for her to awake. The young faerie who had saved her life by condemning her to sleep a hundred years was in the Kingdom of Matakin in the Faerie realm, standing in judgment (for every other faerie of that land was embroiled in some criminal or civil suit, as faeries are wont to become so embroiled), when this accident befell the Princess; but she was instantly informed of it by a little dwarf, who had seven-leagued boots, that is, boots with which he could stride over seven leagues of ground at once. The faerie started off at once, and arrived, about an hour later, in a fiery chariot drawn by dragons.
The King handed her out of the chariot, and she had no choice but to pretend to approve of everything he had done (for she feared greatly lest he have her imprisoned for the rest of her endless life); but as she had very great foresight, she thought that when the Princess should awake she might not know what to do with herself, if she was all alone in this old palace. This was what she did: she touched with her wand everything in the palace (except the King and Queen)-governesses, maids of honour, ladies of the bedchamber, gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, undercooks, kitchen maids, guards with their porters, pages, and footmen; she likewise touched all the horses which were in the stables, the cart horses, the hunters and the saddle horses, the grooms, the great dogs in the outward court, and little Mopsey, too, the Princess’s spaniel, which was lying on the bed.
As soon as she touched them they all fell asleep, not to awake again until their mistress did, that they might be ready to wait upon her when she wanted them (for the King was very stupid, and could not set up any more sensible arrangement; and the young faerie did not have much experience in these matters). The very spits at the fire, as full as they could hold of partridges and pheasants, fell asleep, and the fire itself as well. All this was done in a moment. Faeries are not long in doing their work.
And now the King and Queen, having kissed their dear child without waking her, went out of the palace and sent forth orders that nobody should come near it.
These orders were not necessary; for in a quarter of an hour’s time there grew up all round about the park such a vast number of trees, great and small, bushes and brambles, twining one within another, that neither man nor beast could pass through; so that nothing could be seen but the very top of the towers of the palace; and that, too, only from afar off. Every one knew that this also was the work of the faerie in order that while the Princess slept she should have nothing to fear from curious people.
After a hundred years the son of the King then reigning, who was of another family from that of the sleeping Princess, was a-hunting on that side of the country, and he asked what those towers were which he saw in the middle of a great thick wood. Every one answered according as they had heard. Some said that it was an old haunted castle, others that all the witches of the country held their midnight revels there, but the common opinion was that it was an ogre’s dwelling, and that he carried to it all the little children he could catch, so as to eat them up at his leisure, without any one being able to follow him, for he alone had the power to make his way through the wood.
The Prince did not know what to believe, and presently a very aged countryman spoke to him thus:
‘May it please Your Royal Highness, more than fifty years since I heard from my father that there was then in this castle the most beautiful princess that was ever seen; that she must sleep there a hundred years, and that she should be waked by a king’s son, for whom she was reserved.’
The young Prince on hearing this was all on fire. He thought, without weighing the matter, that he could put an end to this rare adventure; and, pushed on by love and the desire of glory, resolved at once to look into it.
As soon as he began to get near to the wood, all the great trees, the bushes, and brambles gave way of themselves to let him pass through. He walked up to the castle which he saw at the end of a large avenue; and you can imagine he was a good deal surprised when he saw none of his people following him, because the trees closed again as soon as he had passed through them. However, he did not cease from continuing his way; a young prince in search of glory is ever valiant.
He came into a spacious outer court, and what he saw was enough to freeze him with horror. A frightful silence reigned over all; the image of death was everywhere, and there was nothing to be seen but what seemed to be the outstretched bodies of dead men and animals. He, however, very well knew, by the ruby faces and pimpled noses of the porters, that they were only asleep; and their goblets, wherein still remained some drops of wine, showed plainly that they had fallen asleep while drinking their wine.
He then crossed a court paved with marble, went up the stairs, and came into the guard chamber, where guards were standing in their ranks, with their muskets upon their shoulders, and snoring with all their might. He went through several rooms full of gentlemen and ladies, some standing and others sitting, but all were asleep. He came into a gilded chamber, where he saw upon a bed, the curtains of which were all open, the most beautiful sight ever beheld-a princess who appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and whose bright and resplendent beauty had something divine in it. He approached with trembling and admiration, and fell down upon his knees before her.
Then, as the end of the enchantment was come, the Princess awoke, and looking on him with eyes more tender than could have been expected at first sight, said:-
‘Is it you, my Prince? You have waited a long while.’
But in her heart she was sorely grieved, for, in spite of the faeries’ explicit curses and blessings, she had been hoping, and she knew not why, that the one to kiss her would be a Princess.