Cinderella

Once there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the proudest and most haughty woman ever seen. She had, by a former husband, two daughters of her own temper, who were exactly like her in every way. He also had, by another wife, a young daughter of unmatched goodness and sweetness, which she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.

As soon as the wedding was over, the mother-in-law began to show her true colors. She couldn’t stand the good qualities of this pretty girl, all the more because they made her own daughters look worse. She set her to the meanest work in the house: she scrubbed the dishes and tables, cleaned madam’s room and those of her daughters; she slept in a shabby attic on a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay in fine rooms with inlaid floors, on beds of the newest fashion, with mirrors so large they could see themselves full-length from head to foot.

The poor girl bore it all patiently and didn’t dare tell her father, who would have scolded her, for his wife ruled him completely. When she had finished her work, she used to sit by the fireplace among the cinders and ashes, which made people call her Cinderwench; but the younger sister, who was not as rude and unkind as the elder, called her Cinderella. Even so, Cinderella, in her plain clothes, was a hundred times prettier than her sisters, though they were always dressed very richly.

It happened that the King’s son gave a ball and invited all the fashionable people. Our young ladies were invited too, for they cut a very grand figure among the nobility. They were delighted with the invitation and wonderfully busy choosing gowns, petticoats, and headpieces that would suit them. This brought new trouble to Cinderella, for she ironed her sisters’ linen and pleated their ruffles; they talked all day long about nothing but how they should be dressed.