The Fairy Book | Page 3

a good deal embarrassed, especially with a young prince by
her side, to find herself alone. Accordingly, without asking any one's
leave, she touched with her magic wand the entire population of the
palace--except the king and queen; governesses, ladies of honour,
waiting-maids, gentlemen ushers, cooks, kitchen-girls, pages,
footmen--down to the horses that were in the stables, and the grooms
that attended them, she touched each and all. Nay, with kind
consideration for the feelings of the princess, she even touched the little
fat lap-dog, Puffy, who had laid himself down beside his mistress on
her splendid bed. He, like all the rest, fell fast asleep in a moment. The
very spits that were before the kitchen-fire ceased turning, and the fire
itself went out, and everything became as silent as if it were the middle
of the night, or as if the palace were a palace of the dead.
The king and queen--having kissed their daughter and wept over her a
little, but not much, she looked so sweet and content--departed from the
castle, giving orders that it was to be approached no more. The
command was unnecessary; for in one quarter of an hour there sprung
up around it a wood so thick and thorny that neither beasts nor men
could attempt to penetrate there. Above this dense mass of forest could
only be perceived the top of the high tower where the lovely princess
slept.
A great many changes happen in a hundred years. The king, who never
had a second child, died, and his throne passed into another royal
family. So entirely was the story of the poor princess forgotten, that
when the reigning king's son, being one day out hunting and stopped in
the chase by this formidable wood, inquired what wood it was and what
were those towers which he saw appearing out of the midst of it, no one
could answer him. At length an old peasant was found who
remembered having heard his grandfather say to his father, that in this

tower was a princess, beautiful as the day, who was doomed to sleep
there for one hundred years, until awakened by a king's son, her
destined bridegroom.
At this, the young prince, who had the spirit of a hero, determined to
find out the truth for himself. Spurred on by both generosity and
curiosity, he leaped from his horse and began to force his way through
the thick wood. To his amazement the stiff branches all gave way, and
the ugly thorns sheathed themselves of their own accord, and the
brambles buried themselves in the earth to let him pass. This done, they
closed behind him, allowing none of his suite to follow: but, ardent and
young, he went boldly on alone. The first thing he saw was enough to
smite him with fear. Bodies of men and horses lay extended on the
ground; but the men had faces, not death-white, but red as peonies, and
beside them were glasses half filled with wine, showing that they had
gone to sleep drinking. Next he entered a large court, paved with
marble, where stood rows of guards presenting arms, but motionless as
if cut out of stone; then he passed through many chambers where
gentlemen and ladies, all in the costume of the past century, slept at
their ease, some standing, some sitting. The pages were lurking in
corners, the ladies of honour were stooping over their embroidery
frames, or listening apparently with polite attention to the gentlemen of
the court, but all were as silent as statues and as immoveable. Their
clothes, strange to say, were fresh and new as ever: and not a particle of
dust or spider-web had gathered over the furniture, though it had not
known a broom for a hundred years. Finally the astonished prince came
to an inner chamber, where was the fairest sight his eyes had ever
beheld.
A young girl of wonderful beauty lay asleep on an embroidered bed,
and she looked as if she had only just closed her eyes. Trembling, the
prince approached and knelt beside her. Some say he kissed her, but as
nobody saw it, and she never told, we cannot be quite sure of the fact.
However, as the end of the enchantment had come, the princess
awakened at once, and looking at him with eyes of the tenderest regard,
said drowsily, "Is it you, my prince? I have waited for you very long."

Charmed with these words, and still more with the tone in which they
were uttered, the prince assured her that he loved her more than his life.
Nevertheless, he was the most embarrassed of the two; for, thanks to
the kind fairy, the princess had plenty of time to dream of him during
her century of slumber,