He ordered the drums and horns and trumpets to be sounded throughout the town, and the heralds to announce that the girl whose finger a certain ring would fit would marry the heir to the throne.

First the princesses arrived, then the duchesses, the countesses and the baronesses, but although they did all they could to make their fingers small, none of them could put on the ring. So the country girls had to be tried, but pretty as they were, they all had fingers that were too fat. The prince, who was feeling better, carried out the fittings himself. At last it was the turn of the chambermaids, but they fared no better. Then, when everyone else had tried, the prince asked for the kitchen maids, scullery maids and shepherdesses. They were all brought to the palace, but their coarse, red, short fingers would hardly go through the tiny golden hoop as far as the nail.

“You have not brought that Donkey Skin, who made me the cake,” said the prince. Everyone laughed, because she was so dirty and unpleasant and couldn’t possibly expect to be included in the ring fitting.

“Let someone fetch her at once,” said the king. “It will not be said that I left out the lowliest.” And, laughing and mocking, the servants ran to fetch 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 all the uproar. She loved the prince, but since true love is timid and has no vanity, she was constantly afraid that some other lady would be found to have a finger as small as hers. So she was overjoyed when the messengers came and knocked on her door. Since she knew that they were seeking the owner of the right finger on which to place her ring, some impulse had caused her to do her hair very carefully and to put on her beautiful silver bodice and her skirt with the flounces and the silver lace trimming studded with emeralds. At the first knock she quickly covered her finery with the donkey skin and opened the door. The visitors, jeering, told her that the king had sent for her so that he could marry her to the prince. Then, laughing loudly, they led her to the prince, who was astonished at the way she was dressed, and found it hard to believe that this was the majestic and beautiful lady he had seen. Sad and confused, he asked, “Is it you who lives at the end of that dark passage in the third yard at the farm?”

“Yes, your highness,” she replied.

“Show me your hand,” said the prince, trembling and heaving a big sigh.

Imagine how astonished everyone was! The king and the queen, the chamberlains and all the courtiers were struck dumb when, from beneath that black and dirty skin, came a delicate little pink and white hand, and the ring slipped easily onto the prettiest little finger in the world. Then the princess shrugged her shoulders and the skin fell from them. She looked so enchanting that the prince, weak though he was, fell to his knees, and held her so closely to him that she blushed. But that was barely noticed, because the king and queen came to embrace her and ask her if she would marry their son.

The princess, confused by all the attention and by the love of the handsome young prince, was about to thank them when, suddenly, the ceiling opened, and the Lilac Fairy was lowered into the room in a chariot made of lilac branches and flowers. She proceeded to tell the princess’s story very charmingly. The king and queen, overjoyed to learn that Donkey Skin was a great princess, became even more enthusiastic about her, but the prince was more aware of her goodness and his love for her grew as the fairy told her tale. He was so impatient to marry her that he could scarcely allow the time needed for the preparations for the grand wedding to which they were entitled.

The king and queen, now completely devoted to their future daughter-in-law, overwhelmed the princess with affection. She had said that she could not marry the prince without the consent of her father the king, so he was the first person to receive an invitation to the wedding. He was not, however, told the name of the bride. The Lilac Fairy who, quite rightly, was supervising all the wedding preparations, had recommended this course of action in order to prevent trouble.

Kings came from all the countries around, some in sedan chairs, others in beautiful carriages; those who came from the most faraway countries rode on elephants and tigers and eagles. But the most magnificent and glorious king of all was the father of the princess. He had, fortunately, regained his sanity, and had married a queen who was a widow and very beautiful, but they had no children. The princess ran to her father and he recognised her at once, embracing her very tenderly before she could throw herself upon his knees. The king and queen presented their son to him, and the happiness of all concerned was complete. The marriage was celebrated with great pomp and circumstance, but the prince and princess were so wrapped up in each other that they were hardly aware of the ceremony.

In spite of the protests of the noble-hearted prince, his father had him crowned the same day and, kissing his hand, placed him on the throne.

The marriage celebrations continued for almost three months, and the love of this young couple would have lasted for more than 100 years, had they lived long enough, so great was their devotion towards each other.

THE MORAL

It scarce may be believed,

This tale of Donkey-skin;

But laughing children in the home;

Yea, mothers, and grandmothers too,

Are little moved by facts!

By them ‘twill be received.

THE LIFE OF CHARLES PERRAULT

Andrew Lang tells us that ‘Charles Perrault did many things well, above all the things that he had not been taught to do, and he did best of all the thing which nobody expected him to have done. A vivid, genial and indomitable character and humour made him one of the best-liked men of his age.’ A great deal is known about Perrault’s interesting and varied life, thanks mainly to D’Alembert’s history of the French Academy, and Perrault’s own memoirs, written for his grandchildren, but not published until 1769, 66 years after his death in 1703.