There was once a merchant who was extremely rich. He had six children—three boys and three girls; and as he was a very sensible man, he spared nothing on their education, but gave them all kinds of masters. His daughters were beautiful, but the youngest had such a peculiar charm about her that even from her birth she had been called Beauty; and this name caused her sisters to feel jealous and envious of her. The reason she was so much more admired than they were, was that she was much more amiable. Her sweet face beamed with good temper and cheerfulness. No frown ever spoiled her fair brow, or bowed the corners of her mouth. She possessed the charm of good temper, which is in itself beauty.

The merchant’s elder daughters were idle, ill-tempered, and proud; therefore people soon forgot that they were beautiful, and only remembered them as very disagreeable.

The pride of these young ladies was so great that they did not care to visit the daughters of men in their father’s own rank of life, but wished to be the friends of great ladies and princesses.

They were always busy trying to get great acquaintances, and met with many mortifications in the effort; however, it pleased them to go out and endeavor to be people of fashion. Every day they drove in the parks, and went in the evening to balls, operas, and plays.

Meantime, Beauty spent almost all her days in studying. Her recreation was to do good. She was to be found in every poor cottage where there was trouble or sickness, and the poor loved her as much as the rich admired her. As it was known that their father was very rich, many merchants asked the girls in marriage; but all these offers were refused, because the two eldest thought they ought at least to be wives of a rich nobleman or a prince.

As for Beauty, she thanked those who asked her to share their fortunes, but told them that she was too young; that she wished to be her father’s companion, and cheer his old age by her loving care.

One unhappy day the merchant returned home in the evening, and told them that he was ruined; that his ships had gone down at sea, and that the firms with which he had been dealing were bankrupt.

Beauty wept for grief, because her father was unhappy and unfortunate, and asked him what was to be done.

“Alas! my child,” he replied, “we must give up our house, and go into the country. There I can get a cottage to shelter us; and we must live by the work of our own hands.”

“Ah!” said Beauty eagerly, “I can spin and knit, and sew very well. I dare say I shall be able to help you, my dear father.”

But the elder daughters did not speak. They had made up their minds to marry one or the other of their rejected lovers, and did not intend to share their father’s fallen fortunes.

They found themselves, however, greatly mistaken. The merchants who had wished to marry them when rich cared nothing for them when poor, and never came to see them again. But those who had loved Beauty crowded to the house, and begged and besought her to marry them and share their fortunes. Beauty was grateful, but she told them that she could not leave her father in his sorrow; she must go with him to console him and work for him. The poor girl was very sorry to lose her fortune, because she could not do so much good without it; but she knew that her place was ordered for her, and that she might be quite as happy poor as rich.

Very soon the merchant’s family had to leave their noble mansion, to sell off all their costly furniture, and to go into the country, where the father and his sons got work; the former as a bailiff, the latter as farm laborers. And now Beauty had to think and work for all.

She rose at four o’clock every morning. She cleaned the house; prepared the breakfast; spread it neatly, and decked the board with the sweetest flowers. Then she cooked the dinner, and when evening came and brought the laborers home, Beauty had always a cheerful welcome for them, a clean home, and a savory supper. During the hours of the afternoon she used to read and keep up her knowledge of languages; and all the time she worked she sang like a bird. Her taste made their poor home look nice, even elegant.

She was happy in doing her duty. Her early rising revealed to her a thousand beauties in nature of which she had never before dreamed.

Beauty acknowledged to herself that sunrise was finer than any picture she had ever seen; that no perfumes equalled those of the flowers; that no opera gave her so much enjoyment as the song of the lark and the serenade of the nightingale.

Her sleep was as happy and peaceful as that of a child; her awakening, cheerful, contented, and blest by heaven.

Meantime her sisters grew peevish, cross, and miserable. They would not work, and as they had nothing else to amuse them, the days dragged along, and seemed as if they would never end. They did nothing but regret the past and bewail the present. As they had no one to admire them, they did not care how they looked, and were as dirty and neglected in appearance as Beauty was neat and fresh and charming.

Perhaps they had some consciousness of the contrast between her and themselves, for they disliked the poor girl more than ever, and were always mocking her, and jesting about her wonderful fitness for being a servant.

“It is quite plain,” they would say, “that you are just where you ought to be: We are ladies; but you are a low-minded girl, who have found your right place in the world.”

Beauty only answered her sisters’ unkind words with soft and tender ones, so there was no quarrelling, and by-and-by they became ashamed to speak to her harshly.

At the expiration of a year the merchant received intelligence of the arrival of one of his richest ships, which had escaped the storm. He prepared to set off to a distant port to claim his property; but before he went he asked each daughter what gift he should bring back for her. The eldest wished for pearls; the second for diamonds; but the third said, “Dear father, bring me a white rose.”

Now it is no easy task to find a white rose in that country, yet, as Beauty was his kindest daughter, and was very fond of flowers, her father said he would try what he could do. So he kissed all three, and bade them good-by. And when the time came for him to go home, he had bought pearls and jewels for the two eldest, but he had sought everywhere in vain for the white rose; and when he went into any garden and asked for such a thing, the people laughed at him, and asked him who had ever heard of a white rose. This grieved him very much, for his third daughter was his dearest child; and as he was journeying home, thinking what he should bring her, he lost his way in a wood. The night was closing in, and as the merchant was aware that there were many bears in that country, he became very anxious to find a shelter for the night.

By-and-by he perceived afar off a light, which appeared to come from a human dwelling, and he urged on his tired horse till he gained the spot. Instead of the woodman’s hut on a hill which he had expected to see, he found himself in front of a magnificent castle, built of white marble. Approaching the door, he blew a golden horn which hung from a chain by the side of it, and as the blast echoed through the wood, the door slowly unclosed, and revealed to him a wide and noble hall, illuminated by myriads of golden lamps.

He looked to see who had admitted him, but perceiving no one, he said:

“Sir porter, a weary traveler craves shelter for the night.”

To his amazement, two hands, without any body, moved from behind the door, and taking hold of his arm drew him gently into the hall.

He perceived that he was in a fairy palace, and putting his own hands in a friendly pressure on one of the ghostly hands, said:

“You are very kind, but I cannot leave my horse out in the cold.”

The hand beckoned, and another pair of shadowy hands crossed the hall, and went outside and led away the horse to the stable.

Then the merchant’s first friends led him gently onwards till he stood in a large and splendid dining-room, where a costly banquet was spread, evidently intended for him, for the hands placed a chair for him and handed him the dishes, and poured out a refreshing drink for him, and waited on him while he supped.

When his repast was over, they touched him, and beckoned to him; and following them, he found himself in a bedroom furnished with great elegance; the curtains were made of butterflies’ wings sewn together.

The hands undressed the stranger, prepared him a bath of rose-water, lifted him into bed and put out the light.

Then the merchant fell asleep. He did not awake till late the next morning. The sun was streaming in through the beautiful window-curtains, and the birds were uttering their shrill cries in the woods. In that country a singing bird is as rare as a white rose.

As he sprang out of bed some bells rang a silvery chime, and he perceived that he had shaken them by his own movements, for they were attached to the golden bed-rail, and tinkled as he shook it.

At the sound the bedroom door opened, and the hands entered bearing a costly suit of clothes, all embroidered with gold and jewels. Again they prepared a bath of rose-water, and attended on and dressed the merchant. And when his toilette was completed, they led him out of his room and downstairs to a pretty little room, where breakfast awaited him.

When he had quite finished eating he thought that it was time to resume his journey; therefore, laying a costly diamond ring on the table, he said:

“Kind fairy, whoever you may be to whom I owe this hospitality, accept my thanks and this small token of my gratitude.”

The hands took the gift up, and the merchant therefore considered that it was accepted. Then he left the castle and proceeded to the stables to find and saddle his horse.

The path led through a most enchanting garden full of the fairest flowers, and as the merchant proceeded, he paused occasionally to glance at the wonderful plants and choice flowers around him. Suddenly his eyes rested on a white rose-tree, which was quite weighed down by its wealth of blossoms.

He remembered his promise to his youngest daughter.

“Ah!” he thought, “at last I have found a white rose. The fairy who has been so generous to me already will not grudge me a single flower from amongst so many.”

And bending down, he gathered a white rose.

At that moment he was startled by a loud and terrific roar, and a fierce lion sprang on him and exclaimed in tones of thunder:

“Whoever dares to steal my roses shall be eaten up alive.”

Then the merchant said: “I knew not that the garden belonged to you; I plucked only a rose as a present for my daughter; can nothing save my life?”

“No!” said the Lion, “nothing, unless you undertake to come back in a month, and bring me whatever meets you first on your return home. If you agree to this, I will give you your life; and the rose, too, for your daughter.”

But the man was unwilling to do so, and said, “It may be my youngest daughter, who loves me most, and always runs to meet me when I go home.” But then he thought again, “It may, perhaps, be only a cat or a dog.” And at last he yielded with a heavy heart, and took the rose, and said he would give the Lion whatever should meet him first on his return.

As he came near home, it was his youngest and dearest daughter that met him; she came running out and kissed him, and welcomed him home; and when she saw that he had brought her the rose, she was still more glad.

But her father began to be very sorrowful, and to weep, saying, “Alas! my dearest child! I have bought this flower at a high price, for I have said I would give you to a wild lion, and when he has you, he will, perhaps, tear you in pieces and eat you.”

And he told her all that had happened, and said she should not go, let what would come of it.

But she comforted him, and said, “Dear father, the word you have given must be kept; I will go with you to the Lion and coax him; perhaps he will let us both return safe home again.”

The time now arrived for the merchant to return to the Lion’s palace, and he made preparations for his dreadful journey. Beauty had so fully made up her mind to accompany him, that nothing could turn her from her purpose. Her father, seeing this, determined to take her, and they accordingly set out on their journey. The horses galloped swiftly across the forest, and speedily reached the palace. As they entered they were greeted with the most enchanting music; but no living creature was to be seen. On entering the salon, the furniture of which was of the most costly kind, they found a rich repast prepared for them, consisting of every delicacy. Beauty’s heart failed her, for she feared something strange would soon happen. They, however, sat down, and partook freely of the various delicacies. As soon as they had finished, the table was cleared by the hands. Shortly afterward there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” replied the merchant; and immediately the door flew open, and the same monster that had seized the merchant entered the room.

The sight of his form terrified both the merchant and his daughter; as for Beauty, she almost fainted with fright.

But the Lion, having a handsome mantle thrown over him, advanced toward them, and seating himself opposite Beauty, said: “Well, merchant, I admire your fidelity in keeping your promise; is this the daughter for whom you gathered the rose?”

“Yes,” replied the merchant; “so great is my daughter’s love to me that she met me first on my return home, and she is now come here in fulfillment of my promise.”

“She shall have no reason to repent it,” said the Lion, “for everything in this palace shall be at her command. As for yourself, you must depart on the morrow, and leave Beauty with me. I will take care that no harm shall happen to her. You will find an apartment prepared for her.” Having said this, he arose, wished them good-night, and departed.

Poor Beauty heard all that passed, and she trembled from head to foot with fear. As the night was far advanced the merchant led Beauty to the apartment prepared for her, and she retired to rest. This room was furnished in the richest manner. The chairs and sofas were magnificently adorned with jewels. The hangings were of the finest silk and gold, and on all sides were mirrors reaching from the floor to the ceiling; it contained, in fact, everything that was rich and splendid.

Beauty and her father slept soundly, notwithstanding their sorrow at the thought of so soon parting. In the morning they met in the salon, where a handsome breakfast was ready prepared, of which they partook. When they had concluded, the merchant prepared for his departure; but Beauty threw herself on his neck and wept. He also wept at the thought of leaving her in this forlorn state, but he could not delay his return forever, so at length he rushed into the courtyard, mounted his horse, and soon disappeared.

Poor Beauty, now left to herself, resolved to be as happy as she could. She amused herself by walking in the gardens and gathering the white roses, and when tired of that she read and played on the harp which she found in her room. On her dressing-table she found these lines, which greatly comforted her:

“Welcome, Beauty! dry your tears,
Banish all your sighs and fears;
You are queen and mistress here,
Whate’er you ask for shall appear.”

After amusing herself thus for some time she returned to the salon, where she found dinner ready prepared. The most delightful music was played during the whole of dinner. When Beauty had finished, the table was cleared, and the most delicious fruits were produced. At the same hour as on the preceding day the Lion rapped at the door, and asked permission to enter. Beauty was terrified, and with a trembling voice she said: “Come in.” He then entered, and advancing toward Beauty, who dared not look up, he said: “Will you permit me to sit with you?” “That is as you please,” replied she. “Not so,” said the Lion, “for you are mistress here; and if my company is disagreeable I will at once retire.”

Beauty, struck with the courtesy of the Lion, and with the friendly tone of his voice, began to feel more courageous; and she desired him to be seated. He then entered into the most agreeable conversation, which so charmed Beauty that she ventured to look up; but when she saw his terrible face she could scarcely avoid screaming aloud. The Lion, seeing this, got up, and making a respectful bow, wished her good-night. Soon after, Beauty herself retired to rest.

On the following day she amused herself as before, and began to feel more reconciled to her condition; for she had everything at her command which could promote her happiness. As evening approached she anticipated the visit of the Lion; for, notwithstanding his terrible looks, his conversation and manners were very pleasing. He continued to visit her every day, till at length she began to think he was not so terrible as she once thought him. One day when they were seated together the Lion took hold of her hand, and said in a gentle voice: “Beauty, will you marry me?” She hastily withdrew her hand, but made no reply; at which the Lion sighed deeply and withdrew. On his next visit he appeared sorrowful and dejected, but said nothing. Some weeks after he repeated the question, when Beauty replied: “No, Lion, I cannot marry you, but I will do all in my power to make you happy.” “This you cannot do,” replied he, “for unless you marry me I shall die.” “Oh, say not so,” said Beauty, “for it is impossible that I can ever marry you.” The Lion then departed, more unhappy than ever.

Amidst all this, Beauty did not forget her father. One day she felt a strong desire to know how he was, and what he was doing; at that instant she cast her eyes on a mirror and saw her father lying on a sick-bed, in the greatest pain, whilst her sisters were trying on some fine dresses in another room. At this sad sight poor Beauty wept bitterly.

When the Lion came as usual he perceived her sorrow, and inquired the cause. She told him what she had seen, and how much she wished to go and nurse her father. He asked her if she would promise to return at a certain time if she went. Beauty gave him her promise, and he immediately presented her with a rose, like that which her father had plucked, saying: “Take this rose, and you may be transported to whatever place you choose; but, remember, I rely on your promise to return.” He then withdrew.

Beauty felt very grateful for his kindness. She wished herself in her father’s cottage, and immediately she was at the door.

Full of joy, she entered the house, ran to her father’s room, and fell on her knees by his bedside and kissed him. His illness had been much increased by fretting for poor Beauty, who he thought had long since died, either from fear or by the cruel monster. He was overcome with joy on finding her still alive. He now soon began to recover under the affectionate nursing of Beauty. The two sisters were very much annoyed at Beauty’s return, for they had hoped that the Lion would have destroyed her. They were greatly annoyed to see her so superbly dressed, and felt extremely vexed to think that Beauty should have clothes as splendid as a queen’s, whilst they could not get anything half so fine.

Beauty related all that had passed in the Beast’s palace, and told them of her promise to return on such a day. The two sisters were so very jealous that they determined to ruin her prospects if possible. The eldest said to the other: “Why should this minx be better off than we are? Let us try to keep her here beyond the time; the monster will then be so enraged with her for breaking her promise, that he will destroy her at once when she returns.” “That is well thought of,” replied the sister. “We will keep her.”

In order to succeed, they treated Beauty with the greatest affection, and the day before her intended departure they stole the rose which she had told them was the means of conveying her in an instant wherever she might wish. Beauty was so much affected by their kindness that she was easily persuaded to remain a few days. In the meantime the envious sisters thought of enriching themselves by means of the rose, and they accordingly wished themselves in some grand place. Instead of being carried away as they expected, the rose withered, and they heard a most terrible noise, which so alarmed them that they threw down the flower and hid themselves.

Beauty was greatly troubled at the loss of her rose, and sought everywhere for it, but in vain. She happened, however, to enter her sisters’ room, and, to her great joy, saw it lying withered on the floor; but as soon as she picked it up, it at once recovered all its freshness and beauty. She then remembered her broken promise, and, after taking leave of her father, she wished herself in the Beast’s palace, and in an instant she was transported thither. Everything was just as she had left it; but the sweet sounds of music which used to greet her were now hushed, and there was an air of apparent gloom hanging over everything. She herself felt very melancholy, but she knew not why.

At the usual time she expected a visit from the Lion, but no Lion appeared. Beauty, wondering what all this could mean, now reproached herself for her ingratitude in not having returned as she promised. She feared the poor Beast had died of grief, and she thought that she could have married him rather than suffer him to die. She resolved to seek him in the morning in every part of the palace. After a miserable and sleepless night, she arose early and ran through every apartment, but no Lion could be seen. With a sorrowful heart she went into the garden, saying, “Oh that I had married the poor Lion who has been so kind to me; for, terrible though he is, I might have saved his life. I wish I could once more see him.”

At that moment she arrived at a plot of grass where the poor Lion lay as if dead. Beauty ran toward him, and knelt by his side, and seized his paw.

He opened his eyes and said: “Beauty, you forgot your promise, in consequence of which I must die.”

“No, dear Lion,” exclaimed Beauty, weeping, “no, you shall not die. What can I do to save you?”

“Will you marry me?” asked he.

“Yes,” replied Beauty, “to save your life.”

No sooner had these words passed her lips than the lion-form disappeared, and she saw at her feet a handsome Prince, who thanked her for having broken his enchantment. He told her that a wicked magician had condemned him to wear the form of a lion until a beautiful lady should consent to marry him; a kind fairy had, however, given him the magic rose to help him.

At the same instant that the Prince was changed the whole palace became full of courtiers, all of whom had been rendered invisible when the Prince was enchanted.

The Prince now led Beauty into the palace, where she found her father. The Prince related all to him, and asked him to allow Beauty to become his wife, to which he cheerfully assented, and the nuptials were solemnized with great rejoicing.

The good fairy appeared to congratulate the Prince on his deliverance and on his marriage with Beauty. As for the two sisters, she punished them severely for their jealous and unkind behavior. But the Prince and his wife Beauty lived happily together in the royal palace for many, many years.