Cinderella; or, The Little Glass SlipperAlderstilpasset versjon

Once there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the proudest and most haughty woman ever seen. She had, by a former husband, two daughters of her own humor, and they were exactly like her in all things. He also had, by another wife, a young daughter, but of unparalleled goodness and sweetness of temper, which she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.

No sooner were the wedding ceremonies over than the stepmother began to show her true colors. She could not stand the good qualities of this pretty girl, especially because they made her own daughters look even worse.

She gave her the meanest work in the house: she scrubbed the dishes, tables, etc., and cleaned madam's chamber and those of the misses, her daughters. She slept in a sorry garret on a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay in fine rooms with inlaid floors, on beds of the newest fashion, and with looking glasses so large that they could see themselves from head to foot.

The poor girl bore everything patiently and dared not tell her father, who would have scolded her, for his wife ruled him completely. When she had finished her work, she would go into the chimney corner and sit down among cinders and ashes, which made people call her Cinder-breech. But the youngest sister, who was not as rude and uncivil as the eldest, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, despite her plain clothes, was a hundred times prettier than her sisters, even though they were always richly dressed.

It happened that the king's son gave a ball and invited all the fashionable people. Our young misses were also invited, for they were very grand among the quality. They were delighted at the invitation and very busy choosing gowns, petticoats, and headdresses that would suit them best.

This was a new trouble for Cinderella, for it was she who ironed her sisters' linen and pleated their ruffles. They talked all day long about nothing but how they should be dressed. "For my part," said the eldest, "I will wear my red velvet suit with French trimming." "And I," said the youngest, "shall only have my usual petticoat, but then, to make up for that, I will put on my gold-flowered mantle and my diamond stomacher, which is far from an ordinary one." They sent for the best hairdresser they could find to arrange their headdresses and adjust their double pinners, and they bought their red brushes and patches from the fashionable maker.

Cinderella was called up to be consulted in all these matters, for she had excellent taste and always advised them for the best. She even offered to arrange their hair, which they willingly let her do. As she was doing this, they said to her: "Cinderella, wouldn't you like to go to the ball?" "Oh!" she said, "you are just making fun of me; it's not for someone like me to go there." "You are right," they replied, "it would make people laugh to see a Cinder-breech at a ball."

Anyone else would have messed up their hair, but she was very good and dressed them perfectly well. They almost didn't eat for two days, so joyful they were. They broke over a dozen laces trying to lace themselves up tightly to have a fine slender shape, and they were constantly at their looking glass. At last the happy day came. They went to the palace, and Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could. When she lost sight of them, she started to cry.

Her godmother, who saw her in tears, asked what was the matter. "I wish I could… I wish I could…" She couldn't speak the rest because she was sobbing. This godmother was a fairy and said to her: "You wish you could go to the ball, don't you?" "Yes," cried Cinderella with a deep sigh.

"Well," said her godmother, "be a good girl, and I'll arrange for you to go." Then she took her into her room and said: "Run into the garden and bring me a pumpkin." Cinderella went immediately to pick the finest one she could find and brought it to her godmother, not understanding how a pumpkin could help her go to the ball.

Her godmother scooped out the inside, leaving only the rind. Then she struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin was instantly turned into a beautiful coach, all gilded with gold.

Then she went to look in the mousetrap, where she found six mice alive, and told Cinderella to lift the trap door a little. She gave each mouse a tap with her wand as it came out, and the mouse was at once turned into a fine horse. Together they made a fine set of six horses of a beautiful mouse-colored dapple gray.

Not having a coachman, Cinderella said: "I'll go and see if there's a rat in the rat trap so we can make a coachman of him." "You're right," replied her godmother, "go and look." Cinderella brought the trap, and inside were three huge rats. The fairy chose one with the largest beard, touched him with her wand, and he turned into a fat, jolly coachman with the smartest whiskers ever seen.

After that, she said: "Go again into the garden, and you'll find six lizards behind the watering can; bring them to me." She did so, and her godmother turned them into six footmen, who immediately jumped up behind the coach with their liveries all covered in gold and silver, and clung close behind as if they had done nothing else their whole lives.

Then the fairy said: "Well, you see a carriage fit to go to the ball with. Aren't you pleased?" "Oh, yes!" cried she, "but must I go in these horrible, dirty rags?" Her godmother just touched her with the wand, and at once her clothes turned into cloth of gold and silver, covered with jewels.

Then she gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the whole world.

Thus dressed, she got into her coach. But her godmother commanded her not to stay past midnight, for if she stayed one moment longer, her coach would become a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and her clothes would be as before. She promised to leave before midnight, and away she drove, almost too excited to contain herself.

The king's son, told that a great princess nobody knew had arrived, ran out to receive her. He gave her his hand as she got out of the coach and led her into the hall among all the company.

There was immediate silence; the dancing stopped, the violins ceased to play, so attentive was everyone to the strange beauty of the unknown newcomer. Nothing was heard but a confused murmur: "Ha! How beautiful she is! Ha!

How beautiful she is!" The king himself, old as he was, couldn't help gazing at her and telling the queen softly that it had been a long time since he had seen such a beautiful and lovely creature.

All the ladies were busy studying her clothes and headdress, hoping to have some made the next day after the same pattern, provided they could get such fine materials and find such skilled hands.

The king's son led her to the most honorable seat and then took her out to dance. She danced so gracefully that everyone admired her more and more. A fine supper was served, but the young prince didn't eat a morsel, so absorbed was he in gazing at her. She went and sat by her sisters, showing them many courtesies and giving them some of the oranges and lemons the prince had given her. This surprised them greatly, for they did not recognize her.

While Cinderella was amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike quarter to twelve. She immediately curtsied to the company and hurried away as fast as she could. When she got home, she ran to find her godmother and, after thanking her, said she wished she could go to the ball the next day because the king's son had asked her.

She was eagerly telling her godmother everything that had happened when her two sisters knocked at the door. Cinderella ran and opened it. "How long you stayed!" she cried, yawning, rubbing her eyes, and stretching as if she had just woken up, though she hadn't felt like sleeping since they left.

"If you had been at the ball," said one of her sisters, "you wouldn't be tired. The most beautiful princess you ever saw came; she showed us many courtesies and gave us oranges and lemons." Cinderella was overjoyed and asked the name of that princess, but they said they didn't know it, and the king's son was very eager to find out.

Cinderella, smiling, replied: "She must be very beautiful indeed. How lucky you are! Couldn't I see her? Oh, dear Miss Charlotte, lend me your yellow dress you wear every day!" "Oh, sure!" cried Miss Charlotte, "lend my clothes to a dirty Cinder-breech like you!

Who would be such a fool?" Cinderella had expected such an answer and was glad of the refusal, for she would have been truly troubled if her sister had lent her the dress she asked for as a joke.

The next day, the two sisters went to the ball, and so did Cinderella, but even more magnificently dressed. The king's son stayed by her all the time, showering her with compliments and loving words.

This was so far from boring her that she quite forgot her godmother's warning, and at last she heard the clock strike twelve when she thought it was only eleven. She jumped up and fled as quickly as a deer. The prince followed, but couldn't catch her.

She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the prince picked up very carefully. She got home breathless, without her coach or footmen, in her old clothes, with nothing left of her finery but the little slipper that matched the one she had dropped.

The guards at the palace gate said they had seen no princess go out, only a young girl very plainly dressed, more like a poor country girl than a gentlewoman.

When the two sisters returned from the ball, Cinderella asked if they had had a good time and if the fine lady had been there. They told her yes, but that she had hurried away at midnight, dropping one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, which the king's son had picked up. He had done nothing but look at it for the rest of the ball, and he was certainly in love with the beautiful owner of the little slipper.

They spoke the truth, for a few days later the king's son had it proclaimed by trumpet that he would marry the girl whose foot this slipper would fit. Those he employed first tried it on the princesses, then the duchesses, and all the court, but in vain. It was brought to the two sisters, who tried everything to squeeze their feet into the slipper, but couldn't.

Cinderella, who watched and knew her slipper, said laughing: "Let me see if it fits me." Her sisters burst out laughing and made fun of her. The gentleman sent to try the slipper looked closely at Cinderella, found her very pretty, and said it was only fair that she should try, for he had orders to let everyone try.

He invited Cinderella to sit down and put the slipper to her foot. It went on easily and fit her as if it had been made of wax. The amazement of her two sisters was enormous, but even greater when Cinderella pulled the other slipper from her pocket and put it on.

Then the fairy godmother appeared, touched Cinderella's clothes with her wand, and made them richer and more magnificent than any she had worn before.

Then her two sisters realized she was the beautiful lady from the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg forgiveness for all the mistreatment they had made her suffer. Cinderella lifted them up, embraced them, and cried that she forgave them with all her heart and wanted them to love her always.

She was led to the young prince dressed as she was. He found her more charming than ever, and a few days later married her. Cinderella, who was as good as she was beautiful, gave her sisters apartments in the palace and that very day matched them with two great lords of the court.

The Moral Beauty is a treasure for women, always admired beyond measure, and one never grows tired of admiring it. But that rare quality called grace far surpasses a pretty face. Its lasting charms outshine all others, and this rich gift her kind godmother bestowed on fair Cinderella, whom she instructed so carefully.

She gave her such a graceful manner that she thereby became a queen. For thus, may truth ever prevail, we draw our lesson from this tale. This quality, fair ladies, know it prevails much more, you'll find, to win and capture a heart than a fine headdress made with art.

The fairies' greatest gift is grace of bearing, not high birth. Without this gift we miss the prize; possession gives us wings to rise.

Another Moral It is a great advantage, no doubt, to have wit, courage, birth, good sense, and other such qualities received from heaven's kind hand and destiny. But none of these rich graces from above will help you advance in the world if you disobey godmothers and parents or stay too long against their strict advice.