The 12 Dancing Princesses

ONCE upon a time there lived, in a village in the mountains, a little cowherd, without either father or mother. His real name was Michael, but he was always called the Star-Gazer, because when he drove his cows over the fields, he went along with his head in the air, gazing at the sky.

As he had white skin, blue eyes, and hair that curled all over his head, the village girls used to cry after him, “Well, Star-Gazer, what are you doing?” Michael would answer, “Oh, nothing,” and go on his way without even turning to look at them.

The fact was he thought them very ugly, with their sunburnt necks, their great red hands, their coarse petticoats and their wooden shoes. He had heard that somewhere in the world there were girls whose necks were white and whose hands were small, who were always dressed in the finest silks and laces, and were called princesses.

At night, he and his friends sat around the fire, looked into the flames, and imagined their future lives. His friends had very ordinary fancies, but he dreamed that one day he would marry a princess.

One morning about the middle of August, just at midday when the sun was hottest, Michael ate his dinner of a piece of dry bread, and went to sleep under an oak tree. While he slept, he dreamed of a beautiful lady, dressed in a robe of cloth of gold, who said to him, “Go to the castle of Beloeil, and there you shall marry a princess.”

That evening the little cowboy, who had been thinking a great deal about the advice of the lady in the golden dress, told his dream to the farm people – but as was natural, they only laughed at the Star-Gazer.

The next day at the same hour he went to sleep again under the same tree. The lady appeared to him a second time and said, “Go to the castle of Beloeil, and you shall marry a princess.”

In the evening Michael told his friends that he had dreamed the same dream again, but they only laughed at him more than before. “Never mind,” he thought to himself; “if the lady appears to me a third time, I will do as she tells me.”

The following day, to the great astonishment of all the village, about two o’clock in the afternoon a voice was heard singing:

“Rale, rale,
How the cattle go!”

It was the little cowboy driving his herd back to the cow shed.

The farmer began to scold him furiously saying it was far too soon to bring the cows home, but he answered quietly, “I am going away,” made his clothes into a bundle, said goodbye to all his friends, and boldly set out to seek his princess.

There was great excitement throughout the village, and on the top of the hill the people stood holding their sides with laughing, as they watched the Star-Gazer trudging bravely along the valley with his bundle at the end of his stick. It was enough to make anyone laugh, certainly.

It was well known for full twenty miles around that there lived in the castle of Beloeil, twelve princesses of wonderful beauty, and as proud as they were beautiful, who were besides so very sensitive and of such truly royal blood, that each would have felt at once the presence of a pea in her bed, even if the mattress had been laid over it.

It was whispered about that they led exactly the lives that princesses ought to lead, sleeping far into the morning, and never getting up until midday. They had twelve beds all in the same room, but what was very extraordinary was the fact that though they were locked in by triple bolts, every morning their satin shoes were found worn with holes.

When the duke asked what they had been doing all night, they always answered that they had been asleep; and indeed, no noise was ever heard in the room, yet the shoes could not wear themselves out alone!

At last the Duke of Beloeil ordered the trumpet to be sounded, and a proclamation to be made that whoever could discover how his daughters wore out their shoes should choose one of them for his wife.

On hearing the proclamation a number of princes arrived at the castle to try their luck. They watched all night behind the open door of the princesses, but when the morning came they had all disappeared, and no one could tell what had become of them.

When he reached the castle, Michael went straight to the gardener and asked him for a job in the garden, and though the Star-Gazer did not look very sturdy, the gardener agreed to take him on, as he thought that his pretty face and golden curls would please the princesses.

The gardener told Michael that when the princesses got up, he was to present each one with a bouquet, and Michael thought that if he had nothing more unpleasant to do than that he should get on very well.

So he placed himself behind the door of the princesses’ room with the twelve bouquets in a basket. When they arose, he gave one to each of the sisters. The princesses took the flowers without even deigning to look at the lad, except Lina the youngest, who fixed her large black eyes as soft as velvet on him, and exclaimed, “Oh, how pretty he is — our new flower boy!” The rest all burst out laughing, and the eldest pointed out that a princess ought never to lower herself by looking at a garden boy.

Now the the beautiful eyes of the Princess Lina inspired him with a violent longing to try his fate – and see if he could discover the secret of satin shoes that were worn out every night. This was his only chance to win her hand in marriage.

However, he did not dare to come forward, being afraid that he should only be jeered at, or even turned away from the castle on account of his impudence – and so he loved the princess Lina and her dark eyes without saying a word to anybody.

Then the Star-Gazer had another dream. The lady in the golden dress appeared to him once more, holding in one hand two young trees, a cherry laurel and a rose laurel, and in the other hand a little golden rake, a little golden bucket, and a silken towel. She spoke to him, saying, “Plant these two laurels in two large pots, rake them over with the rake, water them with the bucket, and wipe them with the towel. When they have grown as tall as a girl of fifteen, say to each of them, “My beautiful laurel, with the golden rake I have raked you, with the golden bucket I have watered you, with the silken towel I have wiped you.” Then after that ask anything you choose, and the laurels will give it to you.”

Michael thanked the lady in the golden dress, and when he woke he found the two laurel bushes beside him. So he carefully obeyed the orders he had been given by the lady.

The trees grew very fast, and when they were as tall as a girl of fifteen he said to the cherry laurel, “My lovely cherry laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with the silken towel I have wiped thee. Teach me how to become invisible.” Then there instantly appeared on the laurel a pretty white flower, which Michael gathered and stuck into his button hole. As soon as he had done so, he saw his hands and arms disappear, and then his entire body. He was now completely invisible.

That evening, when the princesses went upstairs to bed, he followed them barefoot, so that he might make no noise, and hid himself under one of the twelve beds, so as not to take up much room. The princesses began at once to open their wardrobes and boxes. They took out of them the most magnificent dresses, which they put on before their mirrors, and when they had finished, turned themselves all round to admire their appearance.

Michael could see nothing from his hiding place, but he could hear everything, and he listened to the princesses laughing and jumping with pleasure. At last the eldest said, “Be quick, my sisters, our partners will be impatient.” At the end of an hour, when the Star-Gazer heard no more noise, he peeped out and saw the twelve sisters in splendid garments, with their satin shoes on their feet, and in their hands the bouquets he had brought them.

“Are you ready?” asked the eldest.

“Yes,” replied the other eleven in chorus, and they took their places one by one behind her.

Then the eldest princess clapped her hands three times and a trap door opened. All the princesses disappeared down a secret staircase, and Michael hastily followed them. As he was following on the steps of the Princess Lina, he carelessly trod on her dress.

“There is somebody behind me,” cried the princess, “they are holding my dress.”

“You foolish thing,” said her eldest sister, “you are always afraid of something. It is only a nail that caught you.”

They went down, down, down, until at last they came to a passage with a door at one end, which was only fastened with a latch. The eldest princess opened it, and they found themselves immediately in a lovely little wood, where the leaves were spangled with drops of silver which shone in the brilliant light of the moon.

They next crossed another wood where the leaves were sprinkled with gold, and after that another still, where the leaves glittered with diamonds.

At last the Star-Gazer saw a large lake, and on the shores of the lake twelve little boats with awnings, in which were seated twelve princes, who, grasping their oars, awaited the princesses.

Each princess entered one of the boats, and Michael slipped into the one which held the youngest. The boats glided along rapidly, but Lina’s, from being heavier, was always behind the rest. “We never went so slowly before,” said the princess, “what can be the reason?”

“I don’t know,” answered the prince. “I assure you I am rowing as hard as I can.”

On the other side of the lake the garden boy saw a beautiful castle splendidly illuminated, from which came the lively music of fiddles, kettle-drums, and trumpets.

In a moment they touched land, and the company jumped out of the boats; and the princes, after having securely fastened their boats, gave their arms to the princesses and led them to the castle.

Michael followed, and entered the ballroom with them. Everywhere were mirrors, lights, flowers, and silk hangings. The Star-Gazer was quite bewildered at the magnificence of the sight. He placed himself out of the way in a corner, admiring the grace and beauty of the princesses. Their loveliness was of every kind. Some were fair and some were dark; some had chestnut hair, or curls darker still, and some had golden locks. Never were so many beautiful princesses seen together at one time, but the one whom the cowboy thought the most beautiful and the most fascinating was the little princess with the velvet eyes.

With what eagerness she danced! Leaning on her partner’s shoulder she swept by like a whirlwind. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and it was plain that she loved dancing better than anything else.

The poor boy envied those handsome young men with whom she danced so gracefully, but he did not know how little reason he had to be jealous of them.

The young men were really the princes who, to the number of fifty at least, had tried to steal the princesses’ secret. The princesses had made them drink a magic potion, which froze the heart and left nothing but the love of dancing.

They danced on until the shoes of the princesses were worn with holes. When the cock crowed the third time the fiddles stopped, and a delicious supper was served, consisting of sugared orange flowers, crystalised rose leaves, powdered violets, cream crackers, and other dishes – which are, as everyone knows, the favourite food of princesses.

After supper, the dancers all went back to their boats, and this time the Star-Gazer entered that of the eldest princess. They crossed again the wood with the diamond-spangled leaves, the wood with gold-sprinkled leaves, and the wood whose leaves glittered with drops of silver, and as a proof of what he had seen, the boy broke a small branch from a tree in the last wood. Lina turned as she heard the noise made by the breaking of the branch.

“What was that noise?” She asked.

“It was nothing,” replied her eldest sister, “it was only the screech of the barn owl that roosts in one of the turrets of the castle.”

While she was speaking, Michael managed to slip in front, and running up the staircase, he reached the princesses’ room first. He flung open the window, and sliding down the vine which climbed up the wall, found himself in the garden just as the sun was beginning to rise, and it was time for him to set to his work.

That day, when he made up the bouquets, Michael hid the branch with the silver drops in the bouquet intended for the youngest princess.

When Lina discovered it she was much surprised. However, she said nothing to her sisters, but as she met the boy by accident while she was walking under the shade of the elms, she suddenly stopped as if to speak to him, then changing her mind, went on her way.

The same evening the twelve sisters went again to the ball, and the Star-Gazer again followed them and crossed the lake in Lina’s boat.

As they came back, Michael gathered a branch from the wood with the gold-spangled leaves, and now it was the eldest princess who heard the noise that it made in breaking.

“It is nothing,” said Lina, “only the cry of the owl which roosts in the turrets of the castle.”

As soon as she got up she found the branch in her bouquet. When the sisters went down she stayed a little behind and said to the cowboy, “Where does this branch come from?”

“Your Royal Highness knows well enough,” answered Michael.

“So you have followed us?”

“Yes, princess.”

“How did you manage it? We never saw you.”

“I hid myself,” replied the Star-Gazer quietly.

The Princess was silent a moment, and then said, “You know our secret! Keep it. Here is the reward of your discretion.” She then flung the boy a purse of gold.

“I do not sell my silence,” answered Michael, and he went away without picking up the purse.

For three nights Lina neither saw nor heard anything extraordinary, but on the fourth she heard a rustling among the diamond-spangled leaves of the wood. That day there was a branch from the trees in her bouquet.

She took the Star Gazer aside, and said to him in a harsh voice, “You know what price my father has promised to pay for our secret?”

“I know, princess,” answered Michael.

“Don’t you mean to tell him?”

“That is not my intention.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No, princess.”

“What makes you so discreet, then?”

Michael was silent. Lina’s sisters had seen her talking to the little garden boy, and jeered at her for it.

“What prevents your marrying him?” Asked the eldest. “You would become a gardener too; it is a charming profession. You could live in a cottage at the end of the park, and help your husband to draw up water from the well, and when we get up you could bring us our bouquets.”

The princess Lina was very angry, and when the Star-Gazer presented her bouquet, she received it in a disdainful manner. Michael behaved most respectfully – He never raised his eyes to her, but nearly all day she felt him at her side without ever seeing him.

One day she made up her mind to tell everything to her eldest sister.

“What!” Said she, “This rogue knows our secret, and you never told me! I must lose no time in getting rid of him.”

“But how?”

“Why, by having him taken to the tower with the dungeons, of course.”

For this was the way that in old times beautiful princesses got rid of people who knew too much.

The astonishing part of it was that the youngest sister did not seem at all to relish the idea of throwing the boy into a dungeon. At last it was decided that Michael should be put to the test; they would take him to the ball, and at the end of supper would give him the magic potion which was to enchant him like the rest.

In fact he had been present, invisible, while the princesses made their plans, and had heard all; but he had made up his mind to drink of the potion and sacrifice himself to the happiness of her he loved.

Not wishing, however, to cut a poor figure at the ball by the side of the other dancers, he went at once to the laurels, and said, “My lovely rose laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with a silken towel I have dried thee. Dress me like a prince.”

A beautiful pink flower appeared. Michael gathered it, and found himself in a moment clothed in velvet, which was as black as the eyes of the little princess, with a cap to match, a diamond aigrette, and a blossom of the rose laurel in his button hole.

This time he did not cross in Lina’s boat. He gave his arm to the eldest sister, danced with each in turn, and was so graceful that everyone was delighted with him. At last the time came for him to dance with the little princess. She found him the best partner in the world, but he did not dare to speak a single word to her.

When he was taking her back to her place she said to him in a mocking voice, “Here you are at the summit of your wishes: you are being treated like a prince.”

“Don’t be afraid,” replied the Star-Gazer gently. “You shall never be a gardener’s wife.”

The little princess stared at him with a frightened face, and he left her without waiting for an answer. At last the eldest sister made a sign, and one of the page boys brought in a large golden cup. “The enchanted castle has no more secrets for you,” she said to the Star-Gazer. “Let us drink to your triumph.”

He cast a lingering glance at the little princess, and without hesitation lifted the cup. “Don’t drink!” Suddenly cried out the little princess; “I would rather marry a gardener.” Bursting into tears. Michael flung the contents of the cup behind him, sprang over the table, and fell at Lina’s feet. The rest of the princes fell likewise at the knees of the princesses, each of whom chose a husband and raised him to her side. The charm was broken.

The twelve couples embarked in the boats and went straight to the room of the duke, who had just awoken. Michael held in his hand the golden cup, and he revealed the secret of the holes in the shoes.

“Choose then,” said the duke, “whichever of my daughters you prefer.”

“My choice is already made,” replied the garden boy, and he offered his hand to the youngest princess, who blushed and lowered her eyes. Princess Lina did not become a gardener’s wife; on the contrary, it was the Star-Gazer who became a prince.