His good fortune was made even greater by his choice in marriage of a princess who was as beautiful as she was good, and with whom he lived in perfect happiness. They had a daughter who was so perfect, and who had so many gifts, that they never regretted that they had no other children.

The king’s court was a place of magnificence, good taste and abundance in everything. There were wise and clever ministers, good and devoted courtiers, faithful and hardworking servants. The large stables were filled with the most beautiful horses in the world, with richly decorated harnesses and saddles. But the thing that astonished everyone who came to admire the horses was to see a large donkey, with big long ears, in the finest stall.

Now, this was not just a whim of the king, who had given this donkey such a distinguished place for a good reason. The special qualities of this rare animal deserved to be honoured, since it was an extraordinary beast. Every morning its droppings, instead of being like those of any other donkey, were covered with beautiful gold coins of every type, which were collected daily.

Since the misfortunes of life visit kings just as they do their subjects, and since good is always mixed with bad, one day the queen was suddenly attacked by a fatal illness, and neither science nor the skill of the doctors could find a cure. There was great mourning throughout the land. The king, despite the famous proverb that marriage is the grave of love, was very attached to his wife and was deeply distressed. He made vows at all the temples in his kingdom and offered to give his life for that of his beloved queen, but he prayed to all the gods and fairies in vain. The queen, feeling her last hour approach, said to her husband, who was weeping copiously, “There is something I need to speak to you about before I die. If by chance you want to marry again . . .”

At these words the king broke down completely, took his wife’s hands in his, and assured her that it was useless to speak to him of a second marriage.

“No, my dear wife,” he said at last, “tell me instead how I can follow you to your grave.”

“The state,” continued the queen, with a finality that just increased the distress of the king, “the state demands successors to the throne, and since I have only given you a daughter, you will be urged to marry again in order to produce sons. But I beg you not to give in to the persuasions of your people until you have found a princess who is more beautiful than I am. Please swear this to me, and then I shall die content.”

It is possible that the queen, who was not lacking in self-esteem, extracted this oath in the firm belief that no woman in the world was as beautiful as she was, and so felt sure that the king would never marry again. Whatever the truth, she died soon afterwards, and no husband ever grieved so much. The king cried and sobbed day and night, and his only occupation was the observation of all the rites of bereavement, both large and small.

However, even great griefs do not last for ever. After a while, the ministers of state assembled and came to the king, urging him to marry again. At first, this request seemed very harsh to him and he wept again. He reminded them of the vow he had made to the queen and defied his advisers to find a princess who was more beautiful than the queen, thinking that this would be impossible. However, the advisers didn’t take this promise very seriously, and said that beauty didn’t matter, as long as the queen was both good and fertile. The state needed princes in order to maintain its peace and prosperity, and although it was true that the king’s daughter, the princess, had all the qualities that would make a great queen, she would have to choose a foreigner as her husband, and she would go away to live with him. Even if her husband stayed in her country and shared the throne with her, any children they might have would not be considered to be of pure native blood.

The king, considering these things, promised to think it over. And so a search began among all the marriageable princesses for one who would suit him. Portraits of lovely princesses were brought to him every day, but none of them gave the promise of the beauty of his late queen, and instead of coming to a decision he brooded on his sorrow and grief until, in the end, he went mad. He began to believe that he was a young man again and that his young and beautiful daughter the princess was the queen, as he had known her in the days of their courtship. He urged the poor girl to become his wife without delay.

The princess, who was both virtuous and pure, threw herself at her father’s feet and begged him, as eloquently as she could, not to make her consent to his unnatural request.

The king in his madness could not understand the reason for her desperate reluctance, and asked an old druid to set her conscience at rest. Now this druid, who was more ambitious than religious, put his favour with the king before the innocence and virtue of the princess, and instead of trying to restore the king to his senses, he encouraged him in his delusion.

The young princess, overcome with misery, at last thought of the Lilac Fairy, her godmother. Determined to consult her, she set out that same night in a pretty little carriage drawn by a large sheep, who knew all the roads. When she arrived at her godmother’s home, the fairy, who loved the princess, told her that she knew what she had come to say, but that she need have no fear, because nothing would harm her if she faithfully carried out the fairy’s instructions.

“For, my dear child,” she said to her, “it would be a great sin to submit to your father’s wishes, but you can avoid doing so without making him angry. Tell him that to satisfy your whim, he must give you a dress that is the colour of the weather. He will never, despite his love and his power, be able to give you that.”

The princess thanked her godmother from the bottom of her heart, and the next morning she spoke to the king as the fairy had advised, and declared that no one would win her hand in marriage unless he gave her a dress that was the colour of the weather. The king, filled with joy and hope, called together his most skilled workers, and demanded that they make this garment, on pain of death.