The Sleeping Beauty
Once upon a time, there was a king and a queen. Every day they lamented: “Ah! If only we had a child. » But as a child, period. One day while the queen was bathing, a frog jumped out of the water and said to her: “Your wish will be granted. Before a year has passed, you will give birth to a little girl. » What the frog predicted happened. The queen gave birth to a daughter. She was so beautiful that the king was overcome with joy. He threw a big party. He not only invited his parents, his friends, and acquaintances, but he also invited fairies so that they would be favorable to the child. There were thirteen in his kingdom. But, as he only had twelve golden plates to serve them a meal, one of them was not invited.
The party was magnificent. As it drew to a close, the fairies gave the child fabulous gifts: one virtue, the other beauty, the third wealth, and so on, everything desirable in the world. As eleven of the fairies had just done this, the thirteenth suddenly appeared. She wanted revenge for not being invited. Without greeting anyone, she cried out in a loud voice: “The king's daughter, in her fifteenth year, will prick herself on a spindle and fall dead. » Then she left the room. Everyone was very frightened. The twelfth of the fairies, the one who had not yet made her wish, then came forward. And as she could not cancel the bad spell, but only make it less dangerous, she said: “It will not be a true death, only a sleep of a hundred years in which the king's daughter will be plunged. » The king, who would have liked to protect his beloved child from misfortune, ordered that all the spindles be burned in the kingdom. However, all the gifts given to her by the fairies flourished in the young girl. She was so beautiful, so virtuous, so kind and so reasonable that everyone who saw her loved her.
The party was magnificent. As it drew to a close, the fairies gave the child fabulous gifts: one virtue, the other beauty, the third wealth, and so on, everything desirable in the world. As eleven of the fairies had just done this, the thirteenth suddenly appeared. She wanted revenge for not being invited. Without greeting anyone, she cried out in a loud voice: “The king's daughter, in her fifteenth year, will prick herself on a spindle and fall dead. » Then she left the room. Everyone was very frightened. The twelfth of the fairies, the one who had not yet made her wish, then came forward. And as she could not cancel the bad spell, but only make it less dangerous, she said: “It will not be a true death, only a sleep of a hundred years in which the king's daughter will be plunged. » The king, who would have liked to protect his beloved child from misfortune, ordered that all the spindles be burned in the kingdom. However, all the gifts given to her by the fairies flourished in the young girl. She was so beautiful, so virtuous, so kind and so reasonable that everyone who saw her loved her.
It happened that on the day of his fifteenth year, the king and queen left their home. The young girl remained alone in the castle. She wandered everywhere, visiting the rooms and rooms as she pleased. Finally, she entered an old tower. She climbed the narrow spiral staircase and came to a small door. In the lock, there was a rusty key. She turned it. The door opened suddenly. An old woman diligently spinning her flax sat in a small room.
“Hello, grandmother,” said the young girl. What are you doing here?
“I’m going,” said the old woman, shaking her head.
—What is this thing that you make jump so joyfully? » asked the young girl.
She grabbed the spindle and wanted to spin too. Barely had she touched it when bad luck happened: she pricked her finger. Instantly, she collapsed onto a bed that was there and fell into a deep sleep. And this sleep spread throughout the castle. The king and queen, who had just returned and entered the great hall of the palace, fell asleep. And with them, the whole court. The horses fell asleep in their stables, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons on the roof, the flies on the walls. Even the fire burning in the hearth fell asleep and the roast stopped roasting. The cook, who was pulling the scullion's hair because he had missed a dish, let go and fell asleep. And the wind stopped blowing. Not a single leaf moved on the trees in front of the castle. All around the palace, a hedge of thorns began to grow, which grew taller and bushier every day. Soon, it surrounded the castle, until nothing could be seen, not even the flag on the roof.
“Hello, grandmother,” said the young girl. What are you doing here?
“I’m going,” said the old woman, shaking her head.
—What is this thing that you make jump so joyfully? » asked the young girl.
She grabbed the spindle and wanted to spin too. Barely had she touched it when bad luck happened: she pricked her finger. Instantly, she collapsed onto a bed that was there and fell into a deep sleep. And this sleep spread throughout the castle. The king and queen, who had just returned and entered the great hall of the palace, fell asleep. And with them, the whole court. The horses fell asleep in their stables, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons on the roof, the flies on the walls. Even the fire burning in the hearth fell asleep and the roast stopped roasting. The cook, who was pulling the scullion's hair because he had missed a dish, let go and fell asleep. And the wind stopped blowing. Not a single leaf moved on the trees in front of the castle. All around the palace, a hedge of thorns began to grow, which grew taller and bushier every day. Soon, it surrounded the castle, until nothing could be seen, not even the flag on the roof.
Throughout the country, the legend of Sleeping Beauty — this is how the king's daughter was named — spread. From time to time, kings' sons approached the castle and tried to penetrate it through the thick wall of thorns. But they couldn't do it. The thorns held each other, as if by hands. The young princes remained clinging to it, unable to break away, and died there, a cruel death.
After many, many years, the son of a king passed through the country. An old man told him the story of the thorn hedge. Behind her, there must have been a castle in which the wonderful daughter of a king, called Sleeping Beauty, had slept for a hundred years. With her slept the king, the queen, and the entire court. The old man had also learned from his grandfather that many princes had already come and tried to force the thorn hedge, but they remained clinging to it and died a sad death. The young man then said: “I’m not afraid of anything, I’m going to go.” I want to see Sleeping Beauty. »
The good old man wanted to stop him, but no matter how hard he tried, the prince did not listen to him. Now, the hundred years had just passed and the day had come when Sleeping Beauty would wake up. When the king's son approached the thorn hedge, he saw magnificent flowers that parted of their own accord as he passed and made way for him. Behind him, they formed a hedge again. In the castle, he saw the horses and the spotted hounds sleeping. On the roof, the pigeons stood with their heads under their wings. And when he entered the palace, he saw the flies sleeping on the walls. The cook, in the kitchen, still had his hand raised as if he wanted to catch the scullion and the maid was sitting in front of a black hen that she was going to pluck. Upstairs, on the steps of the throne, the king and queen were asleep. The prince continued on his way and the silence was so deep that he could hear his breathing. Finally, he arrived at the tower and pushed open the door of the small room where Beauty slept.
There she was, so pretty that he couldn't look away from her. He leaned over her and kissed her. Then Sleeping Beauty woke up, opened her eyes, and looked at him, smiling. They both went out and the king woke up in his turn, and the queen, and all the court. And everyone looked at each other with wide eyes.
In the stables, the horses stood up and snorted; the hunting dogs jumped up, wagging their tails. On the roof, the pigeons poked their heads out from under their wings, looked around, and flew off into the countryside. The flies on the walls resumed their movement; in the kitchen, the fire lit, blazed, and cooked the meal. The roast began to brown again; the cook slapped the scullion so hard that he cried out, and the maid finished plucking the hen.
The marriage of the prince and Sleeping Beauty was celebrated with exceptional pomp. And they lived happily until their death.
After many, many years, the son of a king passed through the country. An old man told him the story of the thorn hedge. Behind her, there must have been a castle in which the wonderful daughter of a king, called Sleeping Beauty, had slept for a hundred years. With her slept the king, the queen, and the entire court. The old man had also learned from his grandfather that many princes had already come and tried to force the thorn hedge, but they remained clinging to it and died a sad death. The young man then said: “I’m not afraid of anything, I’m going to go.” I want to see Sleeping Beauty. »
The good old man wanted to stop him, but no matter how hard he tried, the prince did not listen to him. Now, the hundred years had just passed and the day had come when Sleeping Beauty would wake up. When the king's son approached the thorn hedge, he saw magnificent flowers that parted of their own accord as he passed and made way for him. Behind him, they formed a hedge again. In the castle, he saw the horses and the spotted hounds sleeping. On the roof, the pigeons stood with their heads under their wings. And when he entered the palace, he saw the flies sleeping on the walls. The cook, in the kitchen, still had his hand raised as if he wanted to catch the scullion and the maid was sitting in front of a black hen that she was going to pluck. Upstairs, on the steps of the throne, the king and queen were asleep. The prince continued on his way and the silence was so deep that he could hear his breathing. Finally, he arrived at the tower and pushed open the door of the small room where Beauty slept.
There she was, so pretty that he couldn't look away from her. He leaned over her and kissed her. Then Sleeping Beauty woke up, opened her eyes, and looked at him, smiling. They both went out and the king woke up in his turn, and the queen, and all the court. And everyone looked at each other with wide eyes.
In the stables, the horses stood up and snorted; the hunting dogs jumped up, wagging their tails. On the roof, the pigeons poked their heads out from under their wings, looked around, and flew off into the countryside. The flies on the walls resumed their movement; in the kitchen, the fire lit, blazed, and cooked the meal. The roast began to brown again; the cook slapped the scullion so hard that he cried out, and the maid finished plucking the hen.
The marriage of the prince and Sleeping Beauty was celebrated with exceptional pomp. And they lived happily until their death.
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