“Cendrillon, ou la petite pantoufle de verre” [Cinderella, or the little glass slipper]

Recorded by Charles Perrault (published in Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: [Contes de ma mère l’Oye] Paris: Chez Claude Barbin, 1697)

Translated by Andrew Lang (published in The Blue Fairy Book London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1891)

Once there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the proudest and most haughty woman that was ever seen. She had, by a former husband, two daughters of her own, who were, indeed, exactly like her in all things. He had likewise, 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 ceremonies of the wedding over but the stepmother began to show herself in her true colors. She could not bear the good qualities of this pretty girl, and the less because they made her own daughters appear the more odious. She employed her in the meanest work of the house. She scoured the dishes, tables, etc., and cleaned madam’s chamber, and those of misses, her daughters. She slept in a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed, while her sisters slept in fine rooms, with floors all inlaid, on beds of the very newest fashion, and where they had looking glasses so large that they could see themselves at their full length from head to foot.

The poor girl bore it all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would have scolded her; for his wife governed him entirely. When she had done her work, she used to go to the chimney corner, and sit down there in the cinders and ashes, which caused her to be called Cinderwench. Only the younger sister, who was not so rude and uncivil as the older one, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her coarse apparel, was a hundred times more beautiful than her sisters, although they were always dressed very richly.

It happened that the king’s son gave a ball, and invited all persons of fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited, for they cut a very grand figure among those of quality. They were mightily delighted at this invitation, and wonderfully busy in selecting the gowns, petticoats, and hair dressing that would best become them. This was a new difficulty for Cinderella; for it was she who ironed her sister’s linen and pleated their ruffles. They talked all day long of 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 have my usual petticoat; but then, to make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered cloak, and my diamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the world.”

They sent for the best hairdresser they could get to make up their headpieces and adjust their hairdos, and they had their red brushes and patches from Mademoiselle de la Poche.

They also consulted Cinderella in all these matters, for she had excellent ideas, and her advice was always good. Indeed, she even offered her services to fix their hair, which they very willingly accepted. As she was doing this, they said to her, “Cinderella, would you not like to go to the ball?”

“Alas!” said she, “you only jeer me; it is not for such as I am to go to such a place.”

“You are quite right,” they replied. “It would make the people laugh to see a Cinderwench at a ball.”

Anyone but Cinderella would have fixed their hair awry, but she was very good, and dressed them perfectly well. They were so excited that they hadn’t eaten a thing for almost two days. Then they broke more than a dozen laces trying to have themselves laced up tightly enough to give them a fine slender shape. They were continually in front of their looking glass. At last the happy day came. They went to court, 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 all in tears, asked her what was the matter.

“I wish I could. I wish I could.” She was not able to speak the rest, being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.

This godmother of hers, who was a fairy, said to her, “You wish that you could go to the ball; is it not so?”

“Yes,” cried Cinderella, with a great sigh.

“Well,” said her godmother, “be but a good girl, and I will contrive that you shall go.” Then she took her into her chamber, and said to her, “Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin.”

Cinderella went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and brought it to her godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin could help her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside of it, leaving nothing but the rind. Having done this, she struck the pumpkin with her wand, and it was instantly turned into a fine coach, gilded all over with gold.

She then went to look into her mousetrap, where she found six mice, all alive, and ordered Cinderella to lift up a little the trapdoor. She gave each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand, and the mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful mouse colored dapple gray.

Being at a loss for a coachman, Cinderella said, “I will go and see if there is not a rat in the rat trap that we can turn into a coachman.”

“You are right,” replied her godmother, “Go and look.”

Cinderella brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The fairy chose the one which had the largest beard, touched him with her wand, and turned him into a fat, jolly coachman, who had the smartest whiskers that eyes ever beheld.

After that, she said to her, “Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the watering pot. Bring them to me.”

She had no sooner done so but her godmother turned them into six footmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their liveries all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind each other as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The fairy then said to Cinderella, “Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you not pleased with it?”

“Oh, yes,” she cried; “but must I go in these nasty rags?”

Her godmother then touched her with her wand, and, at the same instant, her clothes turned into cloth of gold and silver, all beset with jewels. This done, she gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the whole world. Being thus decked out, she got up into her coach; but her godmother, above all things, commanded her not to stay past midnight, telling her, at the same time, that if she stayed one moment longer, the coach would be a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and that her clothes would become just as they were before.

She promised her godmother to leave the ball before midnight; and then drove away, scarcely able to contain herself for joy. The king’s son, who was told that a great princess, whom nobody knew, had arrived, ran out to receive her. He gave her his hand as she alighted from the coach, and led her into the hall, among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence. Everyone stopped dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so entranced was everyone with the singular beauties of the unknown newcomer.

Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of, “How beautiful she is! How beautiful she is!”

The king himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and telling the queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and lovely a creature.

All the ladies were busied in considering her clothes and headdress, hoping to have some made next day after the same pattern, provided they could find such fine materials and as able hands to make them.

The king’s son led her to the most honorable seat, and afterwards took her out to dance with him. She danced so very gracefully that they all more and more admired her. A fine meal was served up, but the young prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing on her.

She went and sat down by her sisters, showing them a thousand civilities, giving them part of the oranges and citrons which the prince had presented her with, which very much surprised them, for they did not know her. While Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven and three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the company and hurried away as fast as she could.

Arriving home, she ran to seek out her godmother, and, after having thanked her, she said she could not but heartily wish she might go to the ball the next day as well, because the king’s son had invited her.

As she was eagerly telling her godmother everything that had happened at the ball, her two sisters knocked at the door, which Cinderella ran and opened.

“You stayed such a long time!” she cried, gaping, rubbing her eyes and stretching herself as if she had been sleeping; she had not, however, had any manner of inclination to sleep while they were away from home.

“If you had been at the ball,” said one of her sisters, “you would not have been tired with it. The finest princess was there, the most beautiful that mortal eyes have ever seen. She showed us a thousand civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons.”

Cinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter. Indeed, she asked them the name of that princess; but they told her they did not know it, and that the king’s son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the world to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied, “She must, then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been! Could not I see her? Ah, dear Charlotte, do lend me your yellow dress which you wear every day.”

“Yes, to be sure!” cried Charlotte; “lend my clothes to such a dirty Cinderwench as you are! I should be such a fool.”

Cinderella, indeed, well expected such an answer, and was very glad of the refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it, if her sister had lent her what she asked for jestingly.

The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderella, but dressed even more magnificently than before. The king’s son was always by her, and never ceased his compliments and kind speeches to her. All this was so far from being tiresome to her, and, indeed, she quite forgot what her godmother had told her. She thought that it was no later than eleven when she counted the clock striking twelve. She jumped up and fled, as nimble as a deer. The prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the prince picked up most carefully. She reached home, but quite out of breath, and in her nasty old clothes, having nothing left of all her finery but one of the little slippers, the mate to the one that she had dropped.

The guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a princess go out. They replied that they had seen nobody leave but a young girl, very shabbily dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country wench than a gentlewoman.

When the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them if they had been well entertained, and if the fine lady had been there.

They told her, yes, but that she hurried away immediately when it struck twelve, and with so much haste that she dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, which the king’s son had picked up; that he had done nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and that most certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned the glass slipper.

What they said was very true; for a few days later, the king’s son had it proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry her whose foot this slipper would just fit. They began to try it on the princesses, then the duchesses and all the court, but in vain; it was brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to force their foot into the slipper, but they did not succeed.

Cinderella, who saw all this, and knew that it was her slipper, said to them, laughing, “Let me see if it will not fit me.”

Her sisters burst out laughing, and began to banter with her. The gentleman who was sent to try the slipper looked earnestly at Cinderella, and, finding her very handsome, said that it was only just that she should try as well, and that he had orders to let everyone try.

He had Cinderella sit down, and, putting the slipper to her foot, he found that it went on very easily, fitting her as if it had been made of wax. Her two sisters were greatly astonished, but then even more so, when Cinderella pulled out of her pocket the other slipper, and put it on her other foot. Then in came her godmother and touched her wand to Cinderella’s clothes, making them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had worn before.

And now her two sisters found her to be that fine, beautiful lady whom they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg pardon for all the ill treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderella took them up, and, as she embraced them, said that she forgave them with all her heart, and wanted them always to love her.

She was taken to the young prince, dressed as she was. He thought she was more charming than before, and, a few days after, married her. Cinderella, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters lodgings in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two great lords of the court.

Moral: Beauty in a woman is a rare treasure that will always be admired. Graciousness, however, is priceless and of even greater value. This is what Cinderella’s godmother gave to her when she taught her to behave like a queen. Young women, in the winning of a heart, graciousness is more important than a beautiful hairdo. It is a true gift of the fairies. Without it nothing is possible; with it, one can do anything.

Another moral: Without doubt it is a great advantage to have intelligence, courage, good breeding, and common sense. These, and similar talents come only from heaven, and it is good to have them. However, even these may fail to bring you success, without the blessing of a godfather or a godmother.

“Cendrillon, ou la petite pantoufle de verre” [Cinderella, or the little glass slipper]

Recorded by Charles Perrault (published in Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: [Contes de ma mère l’Oye] Paris: Chez Claude Barbin, 1697)

Translated by Angela Carter (published in The Bloody Chamber London: Gollancz, 1979)

There once lived a man who married twice, and his second wife was the haughtiest and most stuck-up woman in the world.  She already had two daughters of her own and her children took after her in every way.  Her new husband’s first wife had given him a daughter of his own before she dies, but she was a lovely and sweet-natured girl, very like her own natural mother, who had been a kind and gentle woman.

The second wedding was hardly over before the step-mother showed her true colours.  Her new daughter was so lovable that she made her own children seem even more unpleasant by contrast; so she found the girl insufferable.  She gave her all the rough work about the house to do, washing the pots and pans, cleaning out Madame’s bedroom and those of her step-sisters, too.  She slept at the top of the house, in a garret, on a thin, lumpy mattress, while her step-sisters had rooms with fitted carpets, soft beds and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot.  The poor girl bore everything patiently and dared not complain to her father because he would have lost his temper with her.  His new wife ruled him with a rod of iron.

When the housework was all done, she would tuck herself away in the chimney corner to sit quietly among the cinders, the only place of privacy she could find, and so the family nicknamed her Cinderbritches.  But the younger sister, who was less spiteful than the older one, changed her nickname to Cinderella.  Yet even in her dirty clothes, Cinderella could not help but be a hundred times more beautiful than her sisters, however magnificently they dressed themselves up.

The king’s son decided to hold a ball to which he invited all the aristocracy.  Our two young ladies received their invitations, for they were well connected.  Busy and happy, they set about choosing the dresses and hairstyles that would suit them best and that made more work for Cinderella, who had to iron her sisters’ petticoats and starch their ruffles.  They could talk about nothing except what they were going to wear.

“I shall wear my red velvet with the lace trimming,“ said the eldest.

“Well, I shall wear just a simple skirt but put my coat with the goldest flowers over it and, of course, there’s always my diamond necklace, which is really rather special,” said the youngest.

They sent for a good hairdresser to cut and curl their hair and they bought the best cosmetics.  They called Cinderella to ask her for her advice, because she had excellent taste.  Cinderella helped them to look as pretty as they could and they were very glad of her assistance, although they did not show it.

As she was combing their hair, they said to her:

“Cinderella, dear, wouldn’t you like to go to the ball yourself?”

“Oh, don’t make fun of me, my ladies, how could I possibly go to the ball!”

“Quite right, too; everyone would laugh themselves silly to see Cindrebritches at a ball.”

Any other girl but Cinderella would have made horrid tangles of their hair after that, out of spite; but she was kind, and resisted the temptation.  The step-sisters could not eat for two days, they were so excited.  They broke more than a dozen corset-laces because they pulled them in so tightly in order to make themselves look slender and they were always primping in front of the mirror.

At last the great day arrived.  When they went off, Cinderella watched them until they were out of sight and then began to cry.  Her godmother saw how she was crying and asked her what the matter was.

“I want … I want to …”

But Cinderella was crying so hard she could not get the words out.

Her godmother was a fairy. She said: “I think you’re crying because you want to go to the ball.”

“Yes,” said Cinderella, sighing.

“If you are a good girl, I’ll send you there,” said her godmother.

She took her into her own room and said:

“Go into the garden and pick me a pumpkin.”

Cinderella went out to the garden and picked the finest pumpkin she could find. She took it to her godmother although she could not imagine how a pumpkin was going to help her get to the ball.  Her godmother hollowed out the pumpkin until there was nothing left but the shell, struck it with her ring — and instantly the pumpkin changed into a beautiful golden coach.

Then the godmother went to look in the mousetrap, and found six live mice there.  She told Cinderella to lift up the lid of the trap enough to let the mice come out one by one and, as each mouse crept out, she struck it lightly with her ring.  At the touch of the ring, each mouse changed into a carriage horse.  Soon the coach had six dappled greys to draw it.

Then she asked herself what would do for a coachman.

“I’ll go and see if there is a rat in the rat-trap,”said Cinderella.  “A rat would make a splendid coachman.”

“Yes, indeed,” said her godmother.  “Go and see”

There were three fat rats in the rat-trap that Cinderella brought to her.  One had particularly fine whiskers, so the godmother chose that one; when she struck him with her ring, he changed into a plump coachman who had the most imposing moustache you could wish to see.

“If you look behind the watering-can in the garden, you’ll find six lizards,” the godmother told Cinderella.  “Bring them to me.”

No sooner had Cinderella brought them to her godmother that the lizards were all changed into footmen, who stepped up behind the carriage in their laced uniforms and hung on as if they done nothing else all their lives.

The fairy said to Cinderella:

“There you are! Now you can go to the ball.  Aren’t you pleased?”

“Yes, of course.  But how can I possible go to the ball in these wretched rags?”

The godmother had only to touch her with her ring and Cinderella’s workaday overalls and apron changed into a dress of cloth of gold and silver, embroidered with precious stones. Then she gave her the prettiest pair of glass slippers.  Now Cinderella was ready, she climbed into the coach; but her godmother told her she must be home by midnight because if she stayed at the ball one moment more, her coach would turn back into a pumpkin, her horses to mice, her footmen to lizards and her clothes back into overalls again.

She promised her godmother that she would be sure to return from the ball before midnight.  Then she drove off.

The king’s son had been told that a great princess, hitherto unknown to anyone present, was about to arrive at the ball and ran to receive her.  He himself helped her down from her carriage with his royal hand and led he into the ballroom where all the guests were assembled.  As soon as they saw her, an enormous silence descended.  The dancing ceased, the fiddlers forgot to ply their bows as the entire company gazed at the unknown lady.  The only sound in the entire ballroom was a confused murmur:

“Oh, isn’t she beautiful!”

And the king himself, although he was an old man, could not help gazing at her and remarked to the queen that he had not seen such a lovely young lady for a very long time.  All the women studied her hair and her ball-gown attentively so that they would be able to copy them the next day, provided they could find such a capable hairdresser, such a skillful dressmaker, such magnificent silk.

The king’s son seated her in the most honoured place and then led her on to the dance floor; she danced so gracefully, she was still more admired.  Then there was a fine supper but the prince could not eat at all, he was too preoccupied with the young lady.  She herself went and sat beside her sisters and devoted herself to entertaining them.  She shared the oranges and lemons the prince had given her with them and that surprised them very much, for they did not recognise her.

While they were talking, Cinderella heard the chimes of the clock striking a quarter to twelve.  She made a deep curtsey and ten ran off as quickly as she could. As soon as she got home, she went to find her godmother and thanked her and told he how much she wanted to go to the ball that was to be given the following day, because the king’s son had begged her to.  While she was telling her godmother everything that had happened, her step-sisters knocked at the door.  Cinderella hurried to let them in.

“What a long time you’ve been!” she said to them yawning, rubbing her eyes and stretching as if she could scarcely keep awake, although she had not wanted to sleep for a single moment since they had left the house.

“If you had come to the ball, you wouldn’t have been sleepy!” said one of the sisters.  “The most beautiful princess you ever saw arrived unexpectedly and she was so kind to us, she gave us oranges and lemons.”

Cinderella asked the name of the princess but they told her nobody knew it, and the king’s son was in great distress and would give anything to find out more about her.  Cinderella smiled and said:

“Was she really so very beautiful?  Goodness me, how lucky you are.  And can I never see her for myself?  What a shame! Miss Javotte, lend me that old yellow dress you wear around the house so that I can go to the ball tomorrow and see her for myself.”

“What?” exclaimed Javotte.  “Lend my dress to such a grubby little Cinderbritches as it is—it must think I’ve lost my reason!”

Cinderella had expected a refusal; and she would have been exceedingly embarrassed if her sister had relented and agreed to lend her a dress and taken her to the ball in it.

The next day, the sisters went off to the ball again.  Cinderella went, too, but this time she was even more beautifully dressed than the first time.  The king’s son did not leave her side and never stopped paying her compliments so that the young girl was utterly absorbed in him and time passed so quickly that she thought it must still be only eleven o’clock when she heard the chimes of midnight.  She sprang to her feet and darted off as lightly as a doe.  The prince sprang after her but could not catch her; in her flight, however, she let fall one of her glass slippers and the prince tenderly picked it up.  Cinderella arrived home out of breath, without her carriage, without her footmen, in her dirty old clothes again; nothing remained of all her splendour but one of her little slippers, the pair of the one she had dropped.  The prince asked the guards at the palace gate if they had seen a princess go out; they replied then had seen nobody leave the castle last night at midnight but a ragged young girl who looked more like a kitchen-maid than a fine lady.

When her sisters came home from the ball, Cinderella asked them if they had enjoyed themselves again; and had the beautiful princess been there?  They said, yes; but she had fled at the very stroke of midnight, and so promptly that she had dropped one of her little glass slippers.  The king’s son had found it and never took his eyes off it for the rest of the evening, so plainly he was very much in love with the beautiful young lady to whom it belonged.

They spoke the truth.  A few days later, the king’s son publicly announced that he would marry whoever possessed the foot for which the glass slipper had been made.  They made a start by trying the slipper on all the princesses; then moved on to the duchesses, then to the rest of the court, but all in vain.  At last they brought the slipper to the two sisters, who did all they could to squeeze their feet into the slipper but could not manage it, no matter how hard they tried.  Cinderella watched them; she recognized her own slipper at once.  She laughed, and said:

“I’d like to try and see if it might not fit me!”

Her sisters giggled and made fun of her but the gentleman who was in charge of the slipper trial looked at Cinderella carefully and saw how beautiful she was.  Yes, he said; of course she could try on the slipper.  He had received orders to try the slipper on the feet of every girl in the kingdom.  He sat Cinderella down and, as soon as he saw her foot, he knew it would fit the slipper perfectly.  The two sisters were very much astonished but not half so astonished as they were when Cinderella took her own glass slipper from her pocket.  At that the godmother appeared; she struck Cinderella’s overalls with her ring and at once the old clothes were transformed to garments more magnificent than all her ball-dresses.

Then her sisters knew she had been the beautiful lady they had seen at the ball.  They threw themselves at her feet to beg her to forgive them for all the bad treatment she had received from them.  Cinderella raised them up and kissed them and said she forgave them with all her heart and wanted them only always to love her.  Then, dressed in splendour, she was taken to the prince he thought she was more beautiful than ever and married her a few days later.  Cinderella, who was as good as she was beautiful, took her sister to live in the palace and arranged for both of them to be married, on the same day, to great lords.

Moral: Beauty is a fine thing in a woman; it will always be admired.  But charm is beyond price and worth more, in the long run.  When her godmother dressed Cinderella up and told her how to behave at the ball, she instructed her in charm.  Lovely, ladies, this is worth more than a fancy hairdo; to win a heart, to reach a happy ending, charm is the true gift o the fairies.  Without it, one can achieve nothing; with it, everything.

Another Moral: It is certainly a great advantage to be intelligent, brave, well-born, sensible, and have other similar talents given only by heaven.  But however great may be your god-given store, they will never help you to get on in the world unless you have either a godfather or a godmother to put them to work for you.

“Aschenputtel” [Cinderella]

Recorded by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (published in Kinder- und Hausmärchen Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812)

Translated by Jack Zipes (published in The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm: The Complete First Edition New York: Princeton University Press, 2014)

Once upon a time, there was a rich man who lived happily with his wife for a long time, and they had on little girl together.  Then the wife became ill, and as she became deathly ill, she called her daughter and said, “Dear child, I must leave you, but when I am up in heaven, I shall look after you.  Plant a little tree on my grave, and whenever you wish for something, shake it, and you’ll have what you wish.  And whenever you are otherwise in a predicament, then I’ll send you help.  Just stay good and pure.

After she said this, she closed her eyes and died.  Her child wept and planted a little tree on her grave and didn’t need to water it, for her tears were good enough.

The snow covered the mother’s grave like a little white blanket, and by the time the sun had taken it off again and the little tree had become green for the second time, the man had married a second wife.  However, the stepmother already had two daughters from her first husband.  The had beautiful features but proud, nasty, and wicked hearts.  After the wedding had now been celebrated, and all three entered the house, a difficult time began for the poor child.

“What’s this terrible and useless thing doing in our rooms?” the stepmother said.  “Off with you into the kitchen.  Whoever wants to eat bread must first earn it.  She can be our maid.”

The stepsisters took away her clothes and dressed her in an old gray smock.

“You look good in that!” they said, while mocking her and leading her to the kitchen, where the poor child had to do heavy work: she had to get up before dawn, carry the water into the house, make the fire, cook, and wash.  Meanwhile her sisters did everything imaginable to cause her grief and make her look ridiculous.  They poured peas and lentils into the ashes of the hearth so she had to sit there the entire day and separate them.  In the evening, when she was tired, there was no bed for her, and she had to lie next to the hearth in the ashes.  Since she always rummaged in dust ad looked dirty, they named her Cinderella.

At a certain time the king decided to organize a magnificent ball that was to last three days, and his son was supposed to choose a bride at this event.  The two proud stepsisters were also invited to it.

“Cinderella,” they called to her, “Come up here! Comb out our hair, brush our shoes, and fasten our buckles!  We’re going to see the prince at the ball.”

Cinderella work hard and cleaned and brushed as well as she could.  However, the stepsisters continually scolded her, and when they had finished dressing, they asked her in a mocking tone: “Cinderella, wouldn’t you like to go to the ball?”

“Oh, yes,” Cinderella replies.  “But how can I go?  I don’t have any clothes.”

“No,” said the eldest daughter.  “That’s all we’d need for you show up there!  If the people heard that you were our sister, we’d be ashamed.  You belong in the kitchen where there’s a bowl full of lentils.  When we return, they must be sorted, and take care that we don’t find a bad one among them.  Otherwise, you know what will happen to you.”

After that the stepsisters left, and Cinderella stood there and looked after them, and when she could no longer see them, she went sadly into the kitchen and shook the lentils on to the hearth, and they formed a very large pile.

“Oh,” she sighed and said, I’ll have to sort them until midnight, and I won’t be able to shut my eyes no matter how much they may hurt.  If my mother knew about this!”

Then she knelt down in the ashes in front of the hearth and wanted to begin sorting.  All at once two white pigeons flew through the window and landed next to the lentils on the hearth.  They nodded with their heads and said, “Cinderella, would you like us to help you sort the lentils?”

“Yes,” answered Cinderella:

“The good ones for the little pot,

The bad ones for your little crop.”

And peck, peck! Peck, peck!  They began and ate the bad ones and let the good ones remain.  And in a quarter of an hour the lentils were so clean that there was not a bad one among them, and Cinderella could smooth them out in the little pot.  Now the pigeons said to her, “Cinderella, if you want to see your sisters dance with the prince, then climb up to the pigeon coop.”

Cinderella followed them and climbed to the top of the ladder of the pigeon coop and could see the ballroom from there.  Indeed, she could see her sisters dance with the prince, and a thousand chandeliers glittered and glistened before her eyes. And after she had seen enough, she climbed down the ladder.  Her heart was heavy, and she laid herself down in the ashes and fell asleep.

The next morning the two sisters went into the kitchen, and when they saw that Cinderella had cleanly sorted the lentils, they were angry because they would have liked to have scolded her. Since they couldn’t do that, they began to tell her about the ball and said, “Cinderella, that was so much fun, especially the dance.  The prince, who’s the most handsome in the world led us out onto the dance floor, and one of us will become his bride.”

“Yes,” Cinderella said.  “I saw the chandeliers glimmer.  That must have been splendid.”

“What!  How did you manage that?” the eldest sister asked

“I climbed up to the pigeon coop.”

When the sister heard this, she was filled with jealousy, and she immediately ordered the pigeon coop to be torn down.

Now Cinderella had to comb and clean again, and the youngest sister, who had a little sympathy in her heart, said, “Cinderella, when it turns dark, you can go to the ball and look in through the windows.”

“No,” said the eldest.  “That will only make her lazy.  Here’s a sack of sweet peas, Cinderella.  Sort the good from the bad and work hard.  If you don’t have them sorted cleanly by tomorrow, then I’ll spill them all into the ashes, and you’ll have to starve until you’ve fished them out of the ashes.”

Cinderella sat down on the hearth in distress and poured the peas out of the sack.  Then the pigeons flew into the kitchen once again and asked in a friendly way: “Cinderella, do you want us to sort the peas?”

“Yes.”

“The good ones for the little pot,

the bad ones for your little crop.”

Peck, peck! Peck, peck! It all went so quickly as if twelve hands were there. And when they were finished, the pigeons said: “Cinderella, do you want to go and dance at the ball?”

“On my God!” she cried out.  “But how can I go there in my dirty clothes?”

“Go to the little tree on your mother’s grave.  Shake it and wish for clothes.  However, you must return before midnight.”

So, Cinderella went to the grave shook the little tree, and spoke:

“Shake and wobble, little tree!

Let beautiful clothes fall down to me.”

No sooner had she said all this than a splendid dress lay right before her along with pearls, silk stockings, silver slippers, and everything else that belonged to her outfit.  Cinderella carried everything into the house, and after she washed herself and dressed herself, she was as beautiful as a rose washed by the dew.  And when she stepped outside, a carriage stood there drawn by six black horses adorned with feathers.  There were also servants dressed in blue and silver, who helped her inside.  Then off they galloped to the king’s castle.

When the prince saw the carriage come to a halt before the gate, he thought that a strange princess from afar had come traveling to the ball.  So he himself went down the stairs, helped Cinderella out of the carriage and led her into the ballroom.  And when the glitter of the four thousand chandeliers fell upon her, she was so beautiful that everyone there was amazed, and the sisters also stood there and were annoyed that some other young lady was more beautiful than they. However, they didn’t think in the least that it might be Cinderella, who was presumably at home in the ashes. Now the prince danced with Cinderella and showed her royal honor.  As he danced, he thought to himself, “I’m supposed to choose a bride, and I know she’s the only one for me.”  On the other hand, Cinderella had lived for such a long time in ashes and sadness, and now she was in splendor and joy.  But when midnight came, before the clock struck twelve, she stood up and bowed good-bye.  Even though the prince begged and begged, she refused to remain any longer.  So the prince led her down the stairs.  The carriage was below and waiting for her, and it drove off in splendor as it had come.

When Cinderella arrived home, she went once again to the little tree on her mother’s grave.

“Shake and wobble little tree!

Take these clothes back from me.”

Then the tree took the clothes, and Cinderella had her gray smock on again.  And she returned to the kitchen with it, put some dust on her face and laid herself down to sleep.

In the morning the sisters came.  They looked morose and kept quiet.  Then Cinderella said, “You must have had an enjoyable time last night.”

“No, a princess was there, and the prince almost always danced with her.  Nobody had ever seen her or knew where she came from.”

“Was it perhaps that lady who arrived in the splendid carriage pulled by six black horses?” Cinderella asked.

“How do you know this?”

“As I was standing in the entrance to the house. I saw her drive by.”

“In the future stay inside working,” said the eldest sister, who looked angrily at Cinderella.  “What business do you have to stand in the entrance to the house?”

For a third time, Cinderella had to dress up the two sisters, and as a reward they gave her a bowl with peas that she was to sort.  “And don’t you dare to leave your work!” the eldest daughter cried out to her.

Cinderella thought, “If only my pigeons will return!” And her heart beat anxiously until the pigeons came as they had the previous night and said, “Cinderella, do you want us to sort the peas?”

“Yes.”

“The good ones for the little pot,

The bad ones for your little crop.”

Once more the pigeons pecked the bad ones out, and once they were finished, they said, “Cinderella, shake the little tree. It will throw down even more beautiful clothes.  Go to the ball but take care that you return before midnight.”

Cinderella went to her mother’s grave:

“Shake and wobble, little tree!

Let beautiful clothes fall down to me.”

Then a dress fell down, and it was even more glorious and splendid than the previous one.  It was made out of gold and precious gems.  In addition there were golden gusseted stockings and gold slippers.  And after Cinderella was completely dressed, she glistened really like the sun at midday.  A carriage drawn by six white horses that had plumes on their heads stopped in front of the house, and the servants were dressed in red and gold.  When Cinderella arrived, the prince was already on the stairs and led her into the ballroom.  And if everyone had neeb astonished by her beauty the day before, they were even more astounded this evening and the sisters stood in a corner and were pale with envy.  If they had known that it was Cinderella, who was supposed to be at home in the ashes, they would have died of envy.

Now the prince wanted to know who the strange princess was, where she came from, and where she drove off to.  So he had people stationed on the road, and they were to pay attention to her whereabouts.  Moreover, he had the stairs painted with black pitch so that she wouldn’t be able to run so fast.  Cinderella danced and danced with the prince and was filled with so much joy that she didn’t think about midnight.  All of a sudden, as she was in the middle of a dance, she heard the clock begin to strike.  She was reminded of the pigeons’ warning and was terrified.  So she rushed to the door and flew down the stairs.  However, since they were covered with pitch, one of her golden slippers got caught, and Cinderella didn’t stop to take it with her out of fear. Indeed, just as she reached the last step of the stairs, the clock struck twelve.  Consequently, the carriage and horses disappeared, and Cinderella stood in her gray smock on the dark road.  In the meantime, the prince had rushed after her, and he found the golden slipper on the steps.  He pulled it from the pitch and carried it with him, but by the time he made it down the stairs, everything had disappeared.  Even the people who had stood guard came and said they had seen nothing.

Cinderella was glad that nothing worse had happened, and she went home.  Once there she turned on her dim il lamp, hung it in the chimney, and laid herself down in the ashes.  It didn’t take long before the two sisters also returned and called out: “Cinderella, get up and light the way.”

Cinderella yawned and pretended that she had been awakened from her sleep.  As she showed them the way, she heard one of the sisters say, “God knows who the presumable princess is.  If she were only in her grave!  The prince danced just with her alone, and after she had gone, he didn’t want to remain, and the entire ball came to an end.”

“It was really as if all the lights had suddenly been blown out,” the other said.

Meanwhile, the prince was thinking, “If everything else has bone wrong for you, now the slipper will help you find your bride.”  So he had a proclamation announced and declared that whichever maiden’s foot fit the golden slipper was to become his wife.  But the slipper was much too small for anyone that tried it on.  Indeed, many couldn’t even slip their foot into the slipper and couldn’t have done so even if the single slipper were two.  Finally, it was the turn of the two sisters to take the test.  They were glad because they had small beautiful feet and believed that it couldn’t go wrong for them and that the prince should have gone to them right away.

“Listen,” said the mother secretly. “here’s a knife, and if the slipper is still too tight for you, then cut off a piece of your foot.  It will hurt a bit.  But what does that matter?  It will soon pass, and one of you will become queen.”

So the eldest sister went into the chamber and tried on the slipper.  Her toe slipped inside, but her heel was too large.  So, she took the knife and cut off a part of her heel until she could force her foot into the slipper.  Then she went out of the chamber to the prince, and when he saw that she had the slipper on her foot, he said that she was to be his bride.  Then he led her to his carriage and wanted to drive off.  However, when he came to the gate the pigeons were above and called out:

“Looky, look, look

At the shoe that she took.

There’s blood all over, the shoe’s too small.

She’s not the bride that you met at the ball.”

The prince leaned over and saw that blood was spilling out of the slipper and he realized that he had been deceived.  So he brought the false bride back to the house.  However, the mother said to her second daughter, “Take the slipper, and if it’s too short for you then cut off one of your toes.”

So the sister took the slipper into her chamber and since her foot was too large, she bit her lips and cut off a large part of her toes.  Then she quickly slipped her foot into the slipper and came out of her chamber.  Since the prince thought she was the right bride, he wanted to drive off with her. However, when he came to the gate the pigeons called out again

“Looky, look, look

At the shoe that she took.

There’s blood all over, the shoe’s too small.

She’s not the bride that you met at the ball.”

The prince looked down and saw that the stockings of the bride and that her blood was streaming out of the slipper.  So the prince brought her to her mother and said, “She, too, is not the right bride.  But is there another daughter in your house?”

“No,” said the mother, “there’s just a nasty Cinderella.  She sits below in the ashes.  I’m sure the slipper won’t fit her.”

The mother didn’t want to have her summoned, but the prince demanded that she do so.  Therefore, Cinderella was alerted, and when she heard that the prince was there, she washed her face and hands quickly so they were fresh and clean.  When she entered the room, she curtsied.  Then the prince handed her the golden slipper and said, “Try it on!  If it fits, you’ll become my wife.”

So Cinderella took off the heavy shoe from her left foot and put this foot into the golden slipper, and after she pressed a bit, her foot fit as though the slipper had been made for her.  And when she stood up, the prince looked at her beautiful face and recognized the beautiful princess once again and cried: “This is the right bride!”

The stepmother and the two haughty sisters were horrified and became pale, but the prince led Cinderella away.  He helped her into the carriage and as they drove off through the gate, the pigeons cried out:

“Looky, look, look,

there’s no blood at all.

The golden shoe’s a perfect fit.

She’s truly the bride you met at the ball.”

“Aschenputtel” [Cinderella]

Recorded by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (published in Kinder- und Hausmärchen Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857)

Translated by D. L. Ashliman (published by the University of Pittsburgh, 2001)

Once upon a time there was a rich man who lived happily for a long time with his wife. Together they had a single daughter. Then the woman became ill, and when she was lying on her deathbed, she called her daughter to her side, and said, “Dear child, I must leave you now, but I will look down on you from heaven. Plant a little tree on my grave, and when you want something, just shake the tree, and you shall get what you want. I will help you in time of need. Just remain pious and good.” Then she closed her eyes and died. The child cried, and planted a little tree on her mother’s grave. She did not need to carry any water to it, because her tears provided all the water that it needed.

The snow fell over the mother’s grave like a white cloth; then after the sun had retired from it a second time, and the little tree had become green a second time, the man took another wife.

The stepmother already had two daughters by her first husband. They were beautiful to look at, but in their hearts they were proud, arrogant, and evil. After the wedding was over, the three moved into the man’s house, and times grew very bad for his poor child.

“What is that useless creature doing in the best room?” asked the stepmother. “Away to the kitchen with her! And if she wants to eat, then she must earn it. She can be our maid.”

Her stepsisters took her dresses away from her and made her wear an old gray skirt. “That is good enough for you!” they said, making fun of her and leading her into the kitchen. Then the poor child had to do the most difficult work. She had to get up before sunrise, carry water, make the fire, cook, and wash. To add to her misery, her stepsisters ridiculed her and then scattered peas and lentils into the ashes, and she had to spend the whole day sorting them out again. At night when she was tired, there was no bed for her to sleep in, but she had to lie down next to the hearth in the ashes. Because she was always dirty with ashes and dust, they gave her the name Cinderella.

The time came when the king announced a ball. It was to last, in all splendor, for three days, and there his son, the prince, would choose a wife for himself. The two proud sisters were invited. “Cinderella,” they cried, “Come here. Comb our hair. Brush our shoes, and tighten our laces. We are going to the prince’s ball.”

Cinderella did the best that she could, but they rewarded her only with curses. When they were ready, they said with scorn, “Cinderella, wouldn’t you like to go to the ball?”

“Oh, yes. But how can I go? I don’t have a dress.”

“No,” said the oldest one, “and we would be ashamed if you were to be seen there, and people learned that you are our sister. You belong in the kitchen. Here is a basin of lentils. Sort the good ones from the bad ones, and if there is a single bad one in the lot when we return, you can expect the worst.”

With that, they left. Cinderella stood and watched until she could no longer see them. Then she sadly went into the kitchen and spread the lentils out over the hearth. There was a very, very large pile of them. “Oh,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll have to sit here sorting lentils until midnight, and I can’t close my eyes, no matter how much they hurt. If only my mother knew about this!”

She kneeled down in the ashes next to the hearth and was about to begin her work when two white pigeons flew in through the window. They lit on the hearth next to the lentils. Nodding their heads, they said, “Cinderella, do you want us to help you sort the lentils?”

“Yes,” she answered:

The bad ones go into your crop,
The good ones go into the pot.

And peck, peck, peck, peck, they started at once, eating up the bad ones and leaving the good ones lying. In only a quarter of an hour there was not a single bad lentil among the good ones, and she brushed them all into the pot.

Then the pigeons said to her, “Cinderella, if you would like to see your sisters dancing with the prince, just climb up to the pigeon roost.” She followed them and climbed to the top rung of the ladder to the pigeon roost. There she could see into the hall, and she saw her sisters dancing with the prince. Everything glistened by the glow of a thousand lights. After she had seen enough, she climbed back down. With a heavy heart she lay down in the ashes and fell asleep.

The next morning the two sisters came to the kitchen. They were angry when they saw that she had sorted the lentils, for they wanted to scold her. Because they could not, they began telling her about the ball. They said, “Cinderella, it was so grand at the ball. The prince, who is the best looking man in the whole world, escorted us, and he is going to choose one of us to be his wife.”

“Yes,” said Cinderella, “I saw the glistening lights. It must have been magnificent.”

“Now just how did you do that?” asked the oldest one.

“By standing up there on the pigeon roost.”

When she heard this, her envy drove her to have the pigeon roost torn down immediately.

Cinderella had to comb their hair and get them ready again. The youngest sister, who had a little sympathy in her heart, said, “Cinderella, when it gets dark you can go and look through the windows from the outside.”

“No!” said the oldest one. “That would only make her lazy. Here is a sackful of seeds. Sort the good ones from the bad ones, and do it well. If tomorrow there are any bad ones in the lot, then I will dump the whole sackful into the ashes, and you will have to go without eating until you have picked them all out again.”

Cinderella sadly sat down on the hearth and spread out the seeds. The pigeons flew in again, and said, “Cinderella, do you want us to help you sort the seeds?”

“Yes,” she answered:

The bad ones go into your crop,
The good ones go into the pot.

Peck, peck, peck, peck, it went as fast as if twelve hands were at work. When they were finished, the pigeons said, “Cinderella, would you like to go dancing at the ball?”

“Oh, my goodness,” she said, “how could I go in these dirty clothes?”

“Just go to the little tree on your mother’s grave, shake it, and wish yourself some beautiful clothes. But come back before midnight.”

So Cinderella went and shook the little tree, and said:

Shake yourself, shake yourself, little tree.
Throw some nice clothing down to me!

She had scarcely spoken these words when a splendid silver dress fell down before her. With it were pearls, silk stockings with silver decorations, silver slippers, and everything else that she needed. Cinderella carried it all home. After she had washed herself and put on the beautiful clothing, she was as beautiful as a rose washed in dew. She went to the front door, and there was a carriage with six black horses all decorated with feathers, and servants dressed in blue and silver. They helped her into the carriage, and away they galloped to the king’s castle.

The prince saw the carriage stop before the gate, and thought that a foreign princess was arriving. He himself walked down the steps, helped Cinderella out, and escorted her into the hall. Many thousand lights shone upon her, and she was so beautiful that everyone there was amazed. The sisters stood there, angry that someone was more beautiful than they were, but they had no idea that it was Cinderella, who they thought was lying at home in the ashes. The prince danced with Cinderella and paid her every royal honor. He thought to himself, “I am supposed to choose myself a bride. I will have no one but her.”

However long she had suffered in ashes and sorrow, Cinderella was now living in splendor and joy. As midnight approached, before the clock struck twelve, she stood up, bowed, and said that she had to go, in spite of the prince’s requests for her to stay. The prince escorted her out. Her carriage stood there waiting for her. And she rode away just as splendidly as she had come.

Back at home, Cinderella returned to the tree on her mother’s grave, and said:

Shake yourself, shake yourself, little tree!
Take the clothing back from me!

The tree took back the clothes. Cinderella put on her old ash-dress again, went home, dirtied her face, and lay down in the ashes to sleep.

The next morning the two sisters came in looking out of sorts, and without saying a word. Cinderella said, “Did you have a good time yesterday evening?”

“No. A princess was there who danced with the prince almost the whole time, but no one knew who she was nor where she came from.”

“Was she the one in the splendid carriage drawn by six black horses?” asked Cinderella.

“How did you know that?”

“I was standing in the front door when she rode by the house.”

“In the future do not leave your work,” said the oldest one, giving Cinderella an evil look. “What were you doing, standing in the front door?”

Cinderella had to get her sisters ready a third time. Her reward was a basin filled with peas, which she was supposed to sort. “And do not dare to leave your work,” shouted the oldest one, as she was leaving.

Cinderella thought, “If only my pigeons will come again,” and her heart beat a little faster. The pigeons did come, just as they had the evening before, and said, “Cinderella, would you like us to help you sort the peas.”

“Yes,” she said:

The bad ones go into your crop,
The good ones go into the pot.

Once again the pigeons picked out the bad ones, and soon they were finished. Then they said, “Cinderella, shake the little tree, and it will throw down even more beautiful clothes. Go to the ball, but be careful to come back before midnight.” Cinderella went and said:

Shake yourself, shake yourself, little tree.
Throw some nice clothing down to me!

Then a dress fell down that was even more magnificent and more splendid than the other one, made entirely of gold and precious stones. With it were stockings decorated with gold, and slippers made of gold. Cinderella put them on, and she glistened like the sun at midday. A carriage with six white horses pulled up at the door. The horses had tall white plumes on their heads, and the servants were dressed in red and gold.

When Cinderella arrived, the prince was waiting for her at the stairway. He escorted her into the hall. If everyone had been astounded at her beauty yesterday, today they were even more astounded. The sisters stood in the corner, pale with envy. If they had known that this was Cinderella, who they thought was at home lying in the ashes, they would have died of jealousy.

The prince wanted to know who the foreign princess was, where she was from, and where she was going. He placed his people in the street to keep watch. To prevent her from running away so fast, he had the stairway covered with pitch. Cinderella danced with the prince again and again. Filled with joy, she did not think about midnight. Suddenly, in the middle of a dance, she heard the clock strike. She suddenly remembered what the pigeons had warned her. Frightened, she rushed to the door and ran down the stairs. Because they were covered with pitch, one of her golden slippers stuck fast, and in her fear she did not think to pick it up. She reached the last step just as the clock struck twelve. The carriage and the horses disappeared, and Cinderella was left standing there in the dark street dressed in her ash-clothes.

The prince had rushed after her. He found the golden slipper on the stairway, pulled it loose, and picked it up. But by the time he arrived below, she had disappeared. The people whom he had ordered to keep watch came and said that they had seen nothing.

Cinderella was glad that it had not been worse. She returned home, lit her simple oil lamp, hung it in the chimney, and lay down in the ashes. Before long the two sisters returned, and called out, “Cinderella, get up and light the way for us.”

Cinderella yawned and acted as though she had been asleep. While lighting their way, she heard one of them say, “God knows who the cursed princess is. I wish that she were lying beneath the earth! The prince danced only with her, and after she left, he did not want to stay any longer, and the whole party came to an end.”

“It was as though they suddenly blew out all the lights,” said the other one. Cinderella knew exactly who the foreign princess was, but she did not say a word.

Now the prince decided that since nothing else had succeeded, he would let the slipper help him find his bride. He had it proclaimed that he would marry the person whose foot fit the golden slipper. But it was too small for everyone. Indeed, some could not have gotten their foot inside, if it had been twice as large. Finally it came time for the two sisters to try on the slipper. They were happy, for they had small, beautiful feet, and each one believed that she could not fail. “If only the prince would come here sooner!” they thought.

“Listen,” said the mother secretly. “Take this knife, and if the slipper is too tight, just cut off part of your foot. It will hurt a little, but what harm is that? The pain will soon pass, and then one of you will be queen.” Then the oldest one went to her bedroom and tried on the slipper. The front of her foot went in, but her heel was too large, so she took the knife and cut part of it off, so she could force her foot into the slipper. Then she went out to the prince, and when he saw that she was wearing the slipper, he said that she was to be his bride. He escorted her to his carriage and was going to drive away with her. When he arrived at the gate, the two pigeons were perched above, and they called out:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!
There’s blood in the shoe.
The shoe is too tight,
This bride is not right!

The prince bent over and looked at the slipper. Blood was streaming from it. He saw that he had been deceived, and he took the false bride back.

The mother then said to her second daughter, “Take the slipper, and if it is too short for you, then cut off your toes.” So she took the slipper into her bedroom, and because her foot was too long, she bit her teeth together, and cut off a large part of her toes, then quickly pulled on the slipper. When she stepped out wearing it, the prince thought that she was the right one, and wanted to ride away with her. But when they came to the gate, the pigeons again called out:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!
There’s blood in the shoe.
The shoe is too tight,
This bride is not right!

The prince looked down and saw that her white stockings were stained red, and that blood and had come up high on them. The prince took her back to her mother and said, “She is not the right bride either. Is there not another daughter here in this house?”

“No,” said the mother. “There is only a dirty cinder girl here. She is sitting down there in the ashes. The slipper would never fit her.” She did not want to call her, but the prince insisted. So they called Cinderella, and when she heard that the prince was there, she quickly washed her hands and face. She stepped into the best room and bowed. The prince handed her the golden slipper, and said, “Try it on. If it fits you, you shall be my wife.” She pulled the heavy shoe from her left foot, then put her foot into the slipper, pushing ever so slightly. It fit as if it had been poured over her foot. As she straightened herself up, she looked into the prince’s face, and he recognized her as the beautiful princess. He cried out, “This is the right bride.” The stepmother and the two proud sisters turned pale with horror. The prince escorted Cinderella away. He helped her into his carriage, and as they rode through the gate, the pigeons called out:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!
No blood’s in the shoe.
The shoe’s not too tight,
This bride is right!