Donkey-Skin

Once upon a time there was a King, so great, so loved by his people, and so respected by all his neighbors and allies that you might almost say he was the happiest king alive. His good fortune was made even greater by the wife he had chosen—a Princess as beautiful as she was kind, with whom he lived in perfect happiness. From this happy marriage came a daughter blessed with so many gifts that the king and queen never regretted not having more children.

Splendor, good taste, and plenty reigned in the palace. There were wise ministers, loyal courtiers, and faithful servants. The spacious stables were filled with the most beautiful horses in the world, covered with rich blankets. But what amazed strangers the most was to see, in the finest stall, a donkey with great long ears.

The King had not placed this donkey there for fun, but for a good reason. This rare animal was special: every morning its straw was covered with beautiful golden crowns and gold coins of all kinds, which were collected daily.

But troubles come to kings as well as to their subjects, and good is always mixed with bad. So it happened that the Queen suddenly fell ill with a deadly disease, and despite all the doctors’ skill, no cure could be found. There was great mourning in the land.

The King, who loved his wife deeply, was terribly sad and prayed to all the temples in his kingdom, offering to give his own life for hers. But his prayers to the gods and fairies were in vain.

Feeling her last hour approaching, the Queen said to her weeping husband, "I must speak to you about something before I die. If, by chance, you should wish to marry again…" At these words, the King burst into tears, took his wife's hands, and assured her that it was useless to speak of a second marriage.

"No, my dear spouse," he said at last, "tell me rather how I may follow you."

"The kingdom," continued the Queen with a finality that only made the King weep more, "the kingdom needs successors. Since I have only given you a daughter, the people will urge you to have sons who resemble you. But I ask you earnestly: do not give in to their pleas until you have found a Princess more beautiful and more perfect than I. Swear this to me, and I will die content."

Perhaps the Queen, who did not lack self-esteem, demanded this oath believing that there was no one equal to her in the world, and thus she was sure the King would never marry again. At last she died, and never did a husband mourn so much. The King wept day and night, and doing all the little things a widower does was his only occupation.

But even great sorrows do not last forever. After a while, the nobles of the kingdom gathered and came to the King, urging him to take another wife. At first, this request seemed harsh and made him shed fresh tears.

He pleaded the vows he had made to the Queen and dared his counselors to find a Princess more beautiful and better formed than she, thinking this impossible. But the Council treated the promise as unimportant and said it mattered little about beauty if the Queen were but good and fertile.

The kingdom needed princes for peace, and though the Princess his daughter had all the qualities for a great queen, she would have to marry a foreigner who would take her away, or if he stayed, their children would not be considered pure native stock, and neighboring peoples would stir up wars.

The King, impressed by these arguments, promised to think it over. So a search was made among all the marriageable princesses for a suitable one. Every day, charming portraits were brought, but none matched the beauty of his late Queen. Instead of deciding, he brooded over his sorrow until he lost his reason. In his madness, he imagined himself young again, and thought the Princess his daughter in her youth and beauty was his Queen as he had known her. Living in the past, he urged the unhappy girl to become his bride quickly.

The young Princess, who was virtuous and pure, threw herself at the feet of the King her father and begged him with all the words she could find not to force her to agree to his unnatural desire.

The King, in his madness, could not understand why she refused so desperately and asked an old Druid priest to set the Princess's conscience at ease. This Druid, less religious than ambitious, sacrificed innocence to please the King. Instead of restoring the King to his right mind, he encouraged him in his delusion.

The young Princess, beside herself with misery, at last thought of her godmother, the Lilac Fairy. Determined to consult her, she set out that same night in a pretty little carriage drawn by a great sheep who knew all the roads.

When she arrived, the Fairy, who loved the Princess, told her that she knew everything she had come to say, but she need not fear, for nothing would harm her if she faithfully followed the Fairy's instructions.

"For, my dear child," she said, "it would be a great sin to give in to your father's wishes. But you can avoid it without displeasing him. Tell him that to satisfy a whim, he must give you a dress the color of the weather.

Never, despite all his love and power, will he be able to give you that."

The Princess thanked her godmother from her heart, and the next morning spoke to the King as the Fairy had advised. She declared that no one would win her hand unless they gave her a dress the color of the weather.

The King, overjoyed and hopeful, called together the most skillful workmen and demanded this robe, on pain of hanging. But he was spared this extreme measure, for on the second day they brought the much-desired robe.

The heavens are not a more beautiful blue when gilded with golden clouds than was that lovely dress when unfolded. The Princess was very sad and did not know what to do.

Once more she went to her Fairy godmother, who, astonished that her plan had failed, now told her to ask for another gown the color of the moon.

The King again sought out the cleverest workmen and commanded them to make a dress the color of the moon, and woe to them if more than twenty-four hours passed between the order and the delivery.

The Princess, though pleased with the dress when it was delivered, became distressed when she was with her women and her nurse. The Lilac Fairy, who knew all, hurried to comfort her and said, "Either I am greatly mistaken, or if you ask for a dress the color of the sun, we will finally baffle the King your father. It would never be possible to make such a gown; at least we will gain time."

So the Princess asked for yet another gown, as the Fairy had said. The infatuated King could refuse his daughter nothing, and he gave without regret all the diamonds and rubies from his crown to help make this superb work. Nothing was spared to make the dress as beautiful as the sun. And indeed, when the dress appeared, all those who unfolded it had to close their eyes, so dazzling was it. And, truth be told, green spectacles and smoked glasses date from that time.

What was the Princess to do? Never had such a beautiful and artistic robe been seen. She was stunned, and pretending the brightness had hurt her eyes, she retired to her chamber, where she found the Fairy waiting.

Seeing the sun-like dress, the Lilac Fairy became red with rage. "Oh! This time, my child," she said, "we will put the King to a terrible test. Despite his madness, I think he will be a little surprised by what I advise you to ask for: the skin of that donkey he loves so much, which supplies him so richly with money to pay his expenses.

Go and do not fail to tell him you want this skin." The Princess, overjoyed to find another escape—for she thought her father could never bring himself to sacrifice the donkey—went to him and told him her latest wish.

Although the King was amazed by this whim, he did not hesitate to satisfy it. The poor donkey was killed, and its skin was brought with due ceremony to the Princess. Seeing no other way to avoid her misfortune, she was desperate.

At that moment, her godmother arrived. "What are you doing, my child?" she asked, seeing the Princess tearing her hair, her beautiful cheeks stained with tears. "This is the happiest moment of your life. Wrap yourself in this skin, leave the palace, and walk as long as you can find ground to carry you.

When one sacrifices everything for virtue, the gods know how to reward. Go, and I will make sure your possessions follow you. Wherever you stop, your chest with your clothes and jewels will follow you.

Here is my wand I give you: tap the ground with it when you need the chest, and it will appear before your eyes. But hurry and do not delay." The Princess embraced her godmother many times and begged her not to forsake her.

Then she smeared herself with soot from the chimney, wrapped herself in the ugly skin, and went out of the magnificent palace without being recognized by anyone.

The Princess's absence caused great commotion. The King, who had prepared a sumptuous banquet, was inconsolable. He sent out more than a hundred soldiers and more than a thousand musketeers to search for her. But the Lilac Fairy made her invisible to even the cleverest seekers, so she escaped their watchfulness.

Meanwhile, the Princess walked far, far away. After a while, she looked for a place to rest. Though people gave her food out of charity, she was so dirty and unkempt that no one wanted to keep her.

At last, she came to a beautiful town, at the gate of which was a small farm. The farmer's wife needed a maid to wash dishes and look after the geese and pigs. Seeing such a dirty wanderer, she offered to hire her. The Princess, now very tired, accepted joyfully.

She was put into a little corner in the kitchen. For the first days, the servants made coarse jokes about her because the donkey-skin made her look so dirty and unpleasant. At last, they got tired of their teasing.

Besides, she was so careful with her work that the farmer's wife took her under her protection. She minded the sheep and penned them up when needed, and took the geese out to feed with such skill that it seemed she had never done anything else.

Everything her beautiful hands touched was done well.

One day, she was sitting near a clear fountain where she often went to cry about her sad condition. She thought she would look at herself in the water. The horrible donkey-skin that covered her from head to toe disgusted her. Ashamed, she washed her face and hands, which became whiter than ivory, and once again her lovely skin took on its natural freshness. The joy of finding herself so beautiful made her want to bathe in the pool, and she did. But she had to put on the ugly skin again before returning to the farm.

By good luck, the next day was a holiday, so she had time to tap her chest with the fairy's wand, arrange her toilet, powder her beautiful hair, and put on the lovely gown the color of the weather.

But the room was so small that the train could not spread out properly. The beautiful Princess looked at herself and, with good reason, admired her appearance so much that she decided to wear her magnificent dresses in turn on holidays and Sundays for her own amusement. And she did this regularly.

She twined flowers and diamonds in her lovely hair with wonderful skill, and often she sighed that she had no one to see her beauty except the sheep and geese, who loved her just as much in the horrible donkey-skin after which she was called at the farm.

One holiday, when Donkey-Skin had put on her sun-colored dress, the son of the King to whom the farm belonged stopped there to rest on his return from the hunt. This Prince was young and handsome, loved by his father and mother the Queen, and adored by the people.

After he had eaten a simple meal that was offered him, he set out to inspect the farmyard and all its nooks and corners. Going from place to place, he entered a dark alley at the bottom of which was a closed door. Curiosity made him put his eye to the keyhole.

Imagine his surprise when he saw a Princess so beautiful and so richly dressed, with such a noble and dignified air, that he thought she was a goddess. The rush of feeling at that moment would have made him break down the door, if respect for that charming figure had not held him back.

He left the dark alley with difficulty, determined to find out who lived in the little room. He was told that it was a kitchen maid called Donkey-Skin because of the skin she always wore, and that she was so dirty and unpleasant that no one took any notice of her or even spoke to her. She had just been taken in out of pity to look after the geese.

The Prince, though not satisfied by this information, saw that these simple people knew no more, and it was useless to question them. So he returned to his father's palace, beyond words in love, with the beautiful image of the goddess he had seen through the keyhole constantly before his eyes.

He was full of regret that he had not knocked at the door, and promised himself he would not miss the chance next time. But the force of his love caused him such great agitation that the same night he was seized by a terrible fever and was soon at death's door.

The Queen, who had no other child, was in despair because all remedies proved useless. In vain she promised great rewards to the doctors; though they tried all their skill, nothing could cure the Prince. At last they decided that some great sorrow had caused this terrible fever.

They told the Queen, who, full of tenderness for her son, went to him and begged him to tell her his trouble. She declared that even if it meant giving him the crown, his father would yield the throne to him without regret.

Or if he desired some Princess, even if it caused war with her father and their subjects would complain, all would be sacrificed to get what he wished. She begged him with tears not to die, since their life depended on his.

The Queen did not finish this touching speech without moving the Prince to tears.

"Madam," he said at last in a very weak voice, "I am not so low as to desire my father's crown. May Heaven grant him many more years, and may I always be the most faithful and most respectful of his subjects! As for the Princesses you speak of, I have never thought of marriage, and you know well that I will always obey you, even if it is painful for me."

"Ah! my son," replied the Queen, "we will spare nothing to save your life. But, my dear child, save mine and your father's by telling me what you desire, and be sure you shall have it."

"Well, Madam," he said, "since you want me to tell you my thought, I obey. It would indeed be a sin to put two lives so dear to me in danger. Know, my mother, that I want Donkey-Skin to make me a cake, and to have it brought to me when it is ready."

The Queen, astonished at this strange name, asked who Donkey-Skin might be.

"It is, Madam," replied one of her officers who had by chance seen this girl, "the ugliest creature imaginable after the wolf, a slut who lives at your farm and minds your geese."

"It does not matter," said the Queen. "My son, on his way home from the hunt, may have eaten some of her cakes. It is a whim that sick people sometimes have. In a word, I want Donkey-Skin, since Donkey-Skin it is, to make him a cake right away."

A messenger ran to the farm and told Donkey-Skin that she was to make a cake for the Prince as well as she possibly could. Now, some believe that Donkey-Skin had been aware of the Prince in her heart at the moment he put his eye to the keyhole, and then, looking from her little window, she had seen him so young, so handsome, and so shapely that the memory of him had stayed, and often the thought of him had made her sigh.

Be that as it may, Donkey-Skin, either having seen him or having heard him spoken of with praise, was overjoyed at the thought that she might become known to him. She shut herself in her little room, threw off the ugly skin, bathed her face and hands, arranged her hair, put on a beautiful corsage of bright silver and an equally beautiful petticoat, and then set herself to make the much-desired cake.

She took the finest flour, the newest eggs, and the freshest butter. While she was working them, whether by accident or on purpose, a ring that she had on her finger fell into the cake and got mixed in.

When the cooking was done, she wrapped herself in her horrible skin and gave the cake to the messenger, asking him for news of the Prince. But the man would not deign to reply and without a word ran quickly back to the palace.

The Prince took the cake greedily from the man's hands and ate it with such haste that the doctors who were present could not help saying that this was not a good sign. Indeed, the Prince nearly choked on the ring, which he almost swallowed with one of the pieces of cake. But he cleverly pulled it out of his mouth, and his desire for the cake was forgotten as he examined the fine emerald set in a gold keeper ring—a ring so small that he knew it could only fit the prettiest little finger in the world.

He kissed the ring a thousand times, put it under his pillow, and took it out every moment he thought no one was looking. The torment he gave himself, planning how to see the girl to whom the ring belonged, not daring to believe that if he asked for Donkey-Skin she would be allowed to come, and not daring to speak of what he had seen through the keyhole for fear of being laughed at as a dreamer, brought back the fever with great force.

The doctors, not knowing what more to do, declared to the Queen that the Prince's illness was love. So the Queen and the grieving King ran to their son.

"My son, my dear son," cried the sad king, "tell us the name of her you desire. We swear we will give her to you. Even if she were the lowest of slaves."

The Queen, embracing him, agreed with all the King had said. The Prince, moved by their tears and caresses, said to them, "My father and my mother, I do not at all wish to make a marriage that would displease you." And drawing the emerald from under his pillow, he added, "To prove the truth of this, I want to marry the one who owns this ring. It is unlikely that she who owns so pretty a ring is a peasant."

The King and Queen took the ring, examined it with great curiosity, and agreed with the Prince that it could only belong to the daughter of a good house. Then the King, having embraced his son and begged him to get well, went out. He ordered drums, fifes, and trumpets to be sounded throughout the town, and the heralds to cry that she whose finger a certain ring would fit should marry the heir to the throne.

First the princesses came, then the duchesses, the marquises, and the baronesses. But though they did all they could to make their fingers small, none could put on the ring. So the country girls had to try, but pretty though they were, they all had fingers that were too fat.

The Prince, who was feeling better, made the trial himself. At last it was the turn of the chambermaids, but they succeeded no better. Then, when everyone else had tried, the Prince asked for the kitchen maids, the scullions, and the shepherdesses.

They were all brought to the palace, but their coarse, red, short fingers would hardly go through the golden hoop as far as the nail.

"You have not brought that Donkey-Skin who made me the cake," said the Prince.

Everyone laughed and said, "No," so dirty and unpleasant she was.

"Let someone fetch her at once," said the King. "It shall not be said that I left out the lowliest." And the servants ran laughing and mocking to find the goose girl.

The Princess, who had heard the drums and the cries of the heralds, had no doubt that the ring was the cause of this uproar. Now, she loved the Prince, and since true love is timid and has no vanity, she was in constant fear that some other lady would be found to have as small a finger as hers.

Great, then, was her joy when the messengers came and knocked at her door. Since she knew they were seeking the owner of the right finger on which to set her ring, some impulse had moved her to arrange her hair with great care and to put on her beautiful silver corsage and the petticoat full of flounces and silver lace studded with emeralds.

At the first knock, she quickly covered her finery with the donkey-skin and opened the door. The visitors, mockingly, told her that the King had sent for her in order to marry her to his son.

Then with loud peals of laughter, they led her to the Prince, who was astonished at the girl's garb and did not dare to believe that she was the one he had seen so majestic and beautiful.

Sad and confused, he said, "Is it you who live at the bottom of that dark alley in the third yard of the farm?"

"Yes, your Highness," she replied.

"Show me your hand," said the Prince, trembling and heaving a deep sigh.

Imagine how astonished everyone was! The King and Queen, the chamberlains and all the courtiers were dumbfounded when, from beneath that black and dirty skin, came a delicate little white and rose-pink hand, and the ring slipped without difficulty onto the prettiest little finger in the world.

Then, with a little movement the Princess made, the skin fell from her shoulders, and so enchanting was her appearance that the Prince, weak though he was, fell on his knees and held her so closely that she blushed.

But that was hardly noticed, for the King and Queen came to embrace her heartily and ask her if she would marry their son. The Princess, confused by all these caresses and by the love of the handsome young Prince, was about to thank them when suddenly the ceiling opened, and the Lilac Fairy descended in a chariot made of the branches and flowers from which she took her name.

With great charm, she told the Princess's story. The King and Queen, overjoyed to know that Donkey-Skin was a great Princess, redoubled their caresses. But the Prince was even more moved by her virtue, and his love increased as the Fairy unfolded her tale.

His impatience to marry her was so great that he could scarcely wait for the preparations for the grand wedding that was their due. The King and Queen, now entirely devoted to their daughter-in-law, overwhelmed her with affection.

She declared that she could not marry the Prince without the consent of the King her father, so he was the first to receive an invitation to the wedding. He was not, however, told the bride's name. The Lilac Fairy, who rightly presided over everything, had recommended this to prevent trouble.

Kings came from all the countries around, some in sedan chairs, others in beautiful carriages. Those who came from the most distant countries rode on elephants and tigers and eagles. But the most magnificent and most glorious of all was the Princess's father.

He had happily recovered his reason and had married a Queen who was a widow and very beautiful, but he had no child by her. The Princess ran to him, and he recognized her at once and embraced her with great tenderness before she had time to throw herself at his knees.

The King and Queen presented their son to him, and the happiness of all was complete. The wedding was celebrated with all imaginable splendor, but the young couple hardly noticed the ceremony, so wrapped up were they in each other.

Despite the protests of the noble-hearted young man, the Prince's father had his son crowned that same day, and kissing his hand, placed him on the throne.

The celebrations of this illustrious marriage lasted nearly three months, but the love of the two young people would have lasted for more than a hundred years if they had lived that long, so great was their affection for each other.

The moral: Perhaps you will hardly believe This story of Donkey-Skin; But if you laugh, what does it matter? Children in the home, yes, mothers and grandmothers too, Are little moved by facts! By them it will be received.