The Sleeping Beauty (Evans)/Chapter 10

by Charles Perrault

CHAPTER X

And now, as the Prince drew nearer, he could see that the story he had heard about that terrible place was true, for held in the tangle of briar were the bones of many unhappy young men who had tried to force their way through to the castle. Rags and tatters of their finery hung upon the great thorns that pointed menacingly like sharp claws. Here and there upon the ground beneath lay pieces of rusty armour, a helmet surrounded by a coronet of gold that once had belonged to a King’s son, a shield with a Prince’s device, a sword with jewel-encrusted hilt worth a King’s ransom. There they lay, all disregarded among the blanched bones upon the grass, and the ground-ivy spread out its leaves to cover them.

Not a sound broke the deep and awful silence. No bird sang, no insect droned; there was no scurry of woodland creatures among the leaves, no sigh of wind in the trees. In all that place only the thorn hedge seemed threateningly alive, waiting to destroy the intruder who should attempt to force the secret it guarded.

”Who would blame the Prince if for a moment his heart had almost failed him? There was no gap in that hedge, and the great thorns were sharp as dagger blades to stab his flesh. But if the Prince hesitated it was not for long. “Have I come so far to turn back now?” he thought. “These others who have died were brave men, and though they failed, with a courage as great as theirs I may succeed.” And without wasting another moment the Prince began to force his way through the hedge.

And now he noticed with surprise that those thorns which looked so sharp and cruel became soft as thistle- down as soon as he touched them, and the trailing bramble branches did not entangle him but bent aside at his touch as though they had been stems of grass. The hedge opened before him, and as he went through it pink blossoms of wild roses bloomed on the branches, until the tangled wall became a mass of flowers.

At last the Prince found himself on the other side of the hedge in the gardens of the castle. Before him he could see the high towers and turrets bathed in the fresh light of the morning sun, and as he hastened towards them he noticed that the gardens were as trim and tidy as though they had just been tended by the gardeners. There was no moss or weed upon the smooth paths, the turf on the lawns was as short and firm as though it had just been mown, and in the flower-beds everything was in the most careful order. Spring flowers were blooming there, but they bowed their heads upon their stalks, and even the trees seemed to hang their arms as though asleep.

Everywhere there was the same deep silence. The air, which should have been full of the twittering of birds, was heavy and languorous. There was no flutter of butterfly-wings or darting of flies; the fountains on the lawns were not playing, and as the Prince glanced over the edge

of the marble basin of one of them he could see the goldfish beneath the water-lily leaves lying still, with never a wave of the tail or flicker of fin.

So he went on over the lawns and terraces and never a waking thing did he see, but when he came to the court- yard he saw a soldier standing there, leaning on his pike with his head bent upon his chest. At first the Prince

thought that he was dead, but his cheek was fresh and ruddy and it was quite plain to see that he was merely asleep. In the courtyard itself were other human forms, all still and silent. A row of pikemen leaned against the wall and in front of them, stretched out upon the ground, snored the sergeant who had been drilling them when the spell came upon the castle. A young squire, with a sleeping

hawk upon his wrist, slept leaning against a sleeping horse which he had been about to mount. Near by lay a page with a hound in leash, both sleeping as soundly as though they never would awake, and through a window in the stables the Prince saw a groom lying with a straw in his mouth.

In the stables themselves a like condition of things prevailed. The horses slept at their stalls with their noses to the mangers, standing on their four legs just as they were when they were enchanted a hundred years before, and on the back of one of them sat the stable-cat. Here and there upon the ground lay grooms and ostlers, fast asleep among the straw.

From the stables the Prince made his way to the great kitchen where he saw equally strange sights, and he could not help smiling when he came upon the cook with her hand still outstretched to clout the head of the unhappy scullion whom she had by the ear. Before the fires hung the spitted partridges and fowls that were cooking for the Princess’s birthday feast, and at the table a maid had fallen asleep with her hands in a large trough full of dough. She had been making the pastry for a pie when the sleep fell upon her, and a her side was another maid who had been plucking a black hen. At the sink a kitchen-knave was leaning over the pot he had been scouring.

Then the Prince went out into the great hall and saw the courtiers asleep in the window alcoves, or stretched out upon the polished floor. Everywhere was a silence so profound that the Prince was almost alarmed to hear his own breathing, and the beating of his heart sounded like a muffled drum. On and on he went, through rooms and corridors, up staircases and down staircases, into the Queen’s chamber where he saw the Queen and her ladies as still and silent as the rest; one of those ladies had been reading to the Queen at the moment when the charmed sleep fell upon the castle, and the book, a History of Troy, still lay open on her lap. Then the Prince went into the King’s room where his Majesty sat with his ministers of state round the Council board. He almost lingered there, for it was very curious to see those nobles as quiet and motionless as though they had been waxworks in a show. Some of them were frowning as though in deep thought, and some smiling as though they had suddenly remembered something clever to say. The King himself, at the head of the Council table, had evidently fallen asleep in the very midst of a speech, for his arm lay outstretched on the table with pointing finger, and, by his side, his secretary’s fingers still held the pen with which he was inscribing on a roll of parchment the royal words.

So the Prince hurried through the castle from top to bottom until he had glanced into every room and opened every door. And still he knew that there was something more to see, for nowhere had he come across the sleeping Princess. Many maidens he had seen of surpassing beauty, but his heart told him that none of them all was the maiden whom he had come to awaken,

Down he went into the courtyard again and found another stairway which led to the battlements. There stood the watchmen whose duty it was to look out over the country and report the arrival of travellers, but they, too, were all asleep, though one of them had his horn in his hand as though he had been about to blow it when he was suddenly overcome by the charmed slumber.

From the battlements the Prince climbed, in turn, into each of the turrets, but there was nobody in them at all, and no living thing except the owls asleep in the crevices of the walls, and the bats that hung head downward from the rafters. Now only one small turret remained to be explored. It was the oldest of the turrets, almost a ruin, and plainly long unused, for the iron door was rusty and the ivy trailed about the walls.

The Prince approached it with a beating heart, for there he knew he should find what he sought. He threw open the creaking door; with impatient feet he mounted the crazy, winding stair, opened the door at the top and entered a little dark room.

And then—and then he started forward with a cry of joy and wonder, for lying on the couch below the narrow window he saw the Princess.

She was lying upon a couch with her lovely hair spread out like a stream of gold; and, oh! no words can tell how beautiful she was. Softly the Prince came near and bent over her. He touched her hand; it was warm as in life, but she did not stir. No sound of breathing came from her parted lips, fresh and sweet as the petals of a rose; her eyes were closed.

For a long time the Prince stood and gazed upon her, for never in all his life had he seen a maiden so lovely. Then suddenly he bent down and kissed her lips.

That was the end of the enchantment. The Princess’s

eyelids quivered; languidly she moved her head and stretched out her arms. Her eyes opened and she smiled.

“Is it you, my Prince?” she said. “How long you have kept me waiting!”