The White Cat

Once upon a time, there lived a king who had three sons, handsome and brave. But the king feared that the princes might desire to take the throne before his death. Rumors had even begun to circulate that they were supporting those who could help them seize the kingdom from the king. The king felt the approach of old age, but his mind and strength had not diminished in the slightest, so he had no desire to relinquish the title he had worn with such dignity to his sons. Thus, he decided that the best way to protect his peace was to delay the matter, luring his sons with promises he could always avoid fulfilling.

The king summoned his sons to his chambers and, after speaking kindly to them, added:

"Agree, my dear children, that my advanced age no longer allows me to manage the affairs of the state as diligently as in years past. I fear that this might harm my subjects, and so I have decided to yield the crown to one of you. But to receive such a gift from me, you must, in fairness, strive to please me and bring me something that will delight me when I retire to the countryside. I think a small, clever little dog could entertain me, and so, without favoring the eldest over the younger, I declare that the one who brings me the most beautiful little dog shall become my heir."

The princes were surprised that their father suddenly desired a little dog, but the offer seemed advantageous to the two younger brothers, and they willingly agreed to set out in search of a dog. The eldest, however, was too modest—or perhaps too respectful—to assert his rights. The princes bid farewell to the king, who provided them with money and jewels, adding that exactly one year later, on the same day and hour, they were to return to him with their dogs.

Before setting off, the brothers met at a castle near the city. They brought their closest confidants and held a feast there. The three brothers swore eternal friendship to one another and vowed that, in fulfilling their father's request, they would act without malice or envy, and that the one who succeeded would not forget the others in his happiness. Finally, they set off, agreeing to meet again at the same palace upon their return, so they could present themselves to the king together. They chose not to take any attendants with them and adopted false names to avoid being recognized.

Each went his own way. The two elder brothers experienced many adventures, but my interest lies only with the youngest of the brothers. He was courteous, cheerful, and resourceful, possessing a remarkable mind, a noble bearing, handsome features, a dazzling smile, and exceptional skill in all the pursuits befitting a prince. He sang beautifully, played the lute and theorbo with soulful artistry, and could paint—in short, he was perfection in every way, and his bravery bordered on audacity.

Not a day passed without the prince buying dogs—big and small, greyhounds, mastiffs, hounds, spaniels, and lapdogs. If he came across a beautiful dog and then found an even more beautiful one, he would release the first and keep the second. He couldn't possibly lead a pack of thirty or forty thousand dogs, as he had no entourage, servants, or pages. The prince pressed onward, unsure of how long he would continue, until one day he got lost in a forest, where he was caught in a rainstorm and thunder.

He randomly chose a path and walked along it for a long time until he saw a faint light in the distance. "Surely there must be some shelter nearby where I can wait out the storm until morning," thought the prince. Following the light, he came to the gates of a palace. The gates were made of pure gold and adorned with carbuncles that illuminated the surroundings with their bright, clear light. It was this light that the prince had seen from afar. The walls were made of translucent porcelain, painted with colorful scenes depicting the history of the fairies from the creation of the world to the present day. Among them were the famous tales of Donkey Skin, Cinderella, The Orange Tree, Milian, Sleeping Beauty, The Green Snake, and countless others. The prince was delighted to see an image of Prince Restless, as he was a distant relative. However, the rain and storm prevented the prince from examining the paintings further, not only because he was soaked to the bone but also because, in the areas beyond the light of the carbuncles, nothing was visible.

The prince returned to the golden gates and noticed a deer's paw hanging from a diamond chain. He was amazed by all the luxury and how calmly and carefree the inhabitants of the castle seemed to live. "After all," he thought, "who could stop a thief from cutting this chain, plucking out the carbuncles, and becoming rich for the rest of his days?"

The prince pulled the deer's paw, and immediately a bell rang, its sound suggesting it was made of gold and silver. A moment later, the door opened, but the prince saw no one—only several hands appearing in the air, each holding a torch. The prince was so astonished that he hesitated to cross the threshold, but then other hands firmly pushed him forward. He obeyed, though greatly confused, and just in case, he grasped the hilt of his sword. As soon as he entered the hallway, lined from floor to ceiling with porphyry and lapis lazuli, two enchanting voices sang the following song:

"Do not fear these hands, for they mean no harm;
Only a wondrous face is perilous
To hearts that fear the power of love."

The prince decided that he could not be so graciously invited into the palace only to be harmed, so when he was nudged toward a coral door that swung open as he approached, he entered without resistance. He found himself in a parlor adorned with mother-of-pearl, and then in other chambers, each uniquely decorated with countless paintings and jewels that left the prince dazzled. Thousands of lights, burning from floor to ceiling in the parlor, illuminated parts of the other rooms as well, though they too were amply lit by chandeliers, candelabras, and shelves filled with candles. In short, the splendor was so overwhelming that it was hard to believe one's own eyes.
The prince passed through sixty rooms, and then, at last, the hands that had been guiding him stopped him, and he saw a large, comfortable armchair that rolled itself toward the fireplace. A fire immediately blazed up in the hearth, and the hands—which the prince found remarkably beautiful, being white, small, plump, and finely shaped—undressed him. As I mentioned earlier, he was soaked to the bone, and it was necessary to ensure he didn’t catch a cold. The invisible hands brought him a shirt so exquisite that it could have been worn on a wedding day, and a gold-embroidered robe adorned with his monogram in tiny emeralds. Then the hands pushed a dressing table toward the prince. All the grooming tools were of extraordinary beauty. The hands skillfully combed his hair, barely touching him, leaving him quite pleased with their service. Afterward, they dressed him again, not in his own clothes but in a far more luxurious outfit. The prince silently marveled at everything happening around him, though he occasionally shuddered slightly from fear, which he couldn’t entirely suppress.

After powdering, curling, perfuming, and dressing the prince so that he became more handsome than Adonis, the hands led him into a magnificent hall adorned with gilding and richly furnished. The paintings hanging around the room depicted the tales of the most famous cats and kittens: here was Rat-Eater, hanged by his feet at a council of rats; there was Puss in Boots, the Marquis of Carabas; the Learned Cat; the Cat transformed into a woman; and Witches turned into cats, along with a Sabbath complete with all its ceremonies—in short, the most remarkable paintings imaginable.

The table was set for two, and beside each place setting stood a golden casket. A nearby table was laden with bowls made of rock crystal and all sorts of rare stones—their abundance was dazzling to the eye.

As the prince wondered for whom the table had been set, he suddenly saw cats seating themselves in an enclosure meant for a small orchestra. One of them held a score covered in strange musical notes, another held a rolled-up sheet of paper with which he kept time, and the rest held tiny guitars. Suddenly, all the cats began to meow in different voices and pluck the strings of their guitars: it was an exceedingly peculiar music. The prince might have imagined he had descended into hell, but the palace seemed too beautiful to entertain such a thought. Still, he covered his ears and burst into hearty laughter at the sight of the poses and grimaces of these newfound musicians.

As the prince pondered the wonders he had already encountered in this castle, he suddenly noticed a tiny creature, no taller than an elbow, entering the hall. The little figure was draped in a black crepe veil. She was led by two cats dressed in mourning, wearing cloaks and swords, followed by a long procession of cats—some carrying rat traps filled with rats, others holding cages with mice.

The prince was utterly astonished—he didn’t know what to think. The black figure approached him, and when she lifted her veil, he saw the White Cat, the most beautiful cat that ever was or would be in the world. She seemed very young and deeply sad, and she purred so tenderly and enchantingly that her purring touched the prince’s very heart.

“Welcome, son of a king,” she said to the prince. “My Meowjesty is delighted to see you.”

“Madam Cat,” replied the prince, “you have graciously offered me the most courteous reception. But it seems to me that you are no ordinary creature: the gift of speech you possess and the splendid castle you rule speak eloquently of this.”

“Son of a king,” said the White Cat, “please, do not speak to me with flattery. My words are plain, and my ways are simple, but my heart is kind. Now,” she continued, “let us have supper served, and let the musicians fall silent, for the prince does not understand the meaning of their words.”

“Do they say something, Your Majesty?” the prince asked in surprise.

“Of course,” replied the cat. “We have poets here endowed with remarkable talent. If you stay with us, perhaps you will come to appreciate them.”

“Hearing you is enough to make me believe it,” the prince said graciously. “But still, Your Majesty, I see in you a cat of rare breed.”
Dinner was served, and hands belonging to invisible beings attended to the White Cat and her guest. First, two soups were placed on the table—one made of pigeons, the other of fat mice. When the prince saw the second one, he choked on the first, as he immediately imagined that the same cook had prepared both. But the Cat, guessing from his expression what was on his mind, assured him that his food was prepared separately, and he could eat everything offered to him without fear of finding mice or rats in his meal.

The prince did not need to be asked twice, confident that the Cat would not deceive him. He noticed that a portrait in a precious frame hung from her paw—this greatly surprised him. Assuming it was a portrait of Master Catows, he asked the Cat to show it to him. Imagine his astonishment when he saw that it depicted a young man of such beauty that it was hard to believe such a miracle of nature existed, and he bore such a striking resemblance to the prince that it seemed the portrait had been painted from him. The Cat sighed, grew even sadder, and fell silent. The prince understood that some extraordinary secret lay behind this. But he did not dare to inquire further, fearing he might anger or sadden the White Cat. He struck up a conversation with her about the news he knew, and realized that she was well-informed about matters concerning royalty and everything happening in the world.

After dinner, the White Cat invited her guest to the drawing room, where a stage had been set up, and twelve cats and twelve monkeys performed a ballet. The cats were dressed as Moors, the monkeys as Chinese. One can easily imagine how they leaped and jumped, sometimes clawing at each other. Thus, the evening came to an end. The White Cat wished her guest goodnight, and the hands that had brought the prince to her once again took him and led him to chambers of a different kind than those he had already seen. These were not as luxurious as they were exquisite: the walls were entirely covered with butterfly wings, forming patterns resembling a thousand different flowers. There were also feathers of rare birds, perhaps unseen anywhere else. The bed was made up with gauze linens adorned with numerous bows. Mirrors stretched from floor to ceiling, their carved, gilded frames depicting countless little cupids. The prince went to bed without a word, for it was impossible to hold a conversation with the hands that served him. He slept little, and was awakened by some indistinct noise. Immediately, the hands lifted him from the bed and dressed him in a hunting outfit. He looked out into the castle courtyard and saw over five hundred cats—some leading greyhounds on leashes, others blowing horns; a grand celebration was underway—the White Cat was setting out on a hunt and wanted the prince to accompany her. The obliging hands brought him a wooden horse that could gallop at full speed or walk at a slow pace. At first, the prince resisted, refusing to mount it. "After all, I am not the wandering knight Don Quixote," he said. But his objections were in vain, and he was seated on the wooden horse. Its saddle and trappings were embroidered with gold and diamonds. The White Cat mounted a monkey of unprecedented beauty and splendor. Instead of her black veil, she wore a rakishly tilted cavalry hat, which gave her such a determined appearance that all the nearby mice were terrified. Never had there been such a remarkable hunt; the cats ran faster than hares and rabbits, and when they caught their prey, the White Cat immediately gave them their share to eat. It was amusing to watch their clever antics. The birds were not safe either, as kittens climbed trees, and the beautiful monkey carried the White Cat even to eagles' nests, placing their highnesses, the eaglets, under her power.

After the hunt, the White Cat took a horn no longer than a finger, but it produced such a loud and clear sound that it could be heard for ten leagues. She blew it two or three times, and in an instant, all the cats of her kingdom appeared. Some flew through the air, others arrived in boats on the water—in short, no one had ever seen such a vast gathering of cats. They were all dressed differently, and the Cat, accompanied by this solemn retinue, returned to the castle, inviting the prince to follow her. He had no objections, though he felt that such an abundance of cats had an air of witchcraft and sorcery, but what surprised him most was the White Cat herself, speaking in a human voice.

When they returned to the palace, the Cat put on her long black veil again, and she and the prince had supper. He was very hungry and ate with great appetite. Drinks were served, and the prince gladly drank wine, immediately forgetting about the little dog he was supposed to bring to the king. Now he wanted only one thing—to purr with the White Cat, in other words, to stay by her side at all times. They spent their days in pleasant amusements, sometimes fishing, sometimes hunting, then performing ballets, organizing equestrian competitions, and inventing many other pastimes. The White Cat also often composed poems and songs so passionate that it was clear she had a sensitive heart; only someone in love speaks in such a language. But the handwriting of the White Cat's secretary, an elderly cat, was so poor that although her works were preserved, they were impossible to read.

The prince forgot everything—even his homeland. The hands I mentioned earlier continued to serve him. Sometimes the prince wished he had been born a cat, so he could spend his entire life in this pleasant company. "Alas," he said to the White Cat, "I will be so sad to part with you. I love you so much. Become a girl or turn me into a cat." She listened graciously to his wishes but replied in vague terms, so he understood almost nothing.

Time flies quickly for those who know neither care nor sorrow, for those who are merry and healthy. But the White Cat knew when the prince was to return, and since the prince no longer thought of it, she reminded him herself.

"Do you know," she asked him, "that you have only three days left to find the little dog your father the king wants, and that your brothers have already found dogs, and very beautiful ones at that?"

The prince came to his senses and was surprised at his own carelessness.

"What secret sorcery," he exclaimed, "made me forget what is most important to me in the world? My honor and glory are at stake. Where can I find a dog that will help me win the crown, and where can I find a fast horse to cover the long distance?"

The prince grew anxious and visibly despondent.

"Son of the king," the White Cat said to him in a tender voice, "do not grieve. I am your friend. You may stay with me for one more day. It is only five hundred leagues from here to your kingdom, and the noble wooden horse will take you there in less than half a day."

"Thank you, beautiful Cat," the prince replied. "But it is not enough for me to return to my father. I must bring him the dog."
– Take this acorn, – said the White Cat, – it contains a little dog, more beautiful than the Great Dog of Sirius.

– Oh, Madam Cat, Your Majesty must be joking with me.

– Hold the acorn to your ear, – advised the Cat to the prince, – and you will hear barking.

The prince obeyed, and immediately the little dog barked: Woof! Woof! The prince was overjoyed, for a dog that could fit inside an acorn must be very tiny. He wanted to crack the acorn open, so eager was he to see the little dog, but the White Cat said that the dog might catch a cold on the journey and it would be better not to disturb it until the prince stood before his father, the king. The prince showered her with gratitude and tenderly bid farewell to the Cat.

– Believe me, – he said, – the days I spent by your side flew by so quickly that it saddens me to leave you. And though you are a queen and your courtly cats are far wittier and more courteous than ours, I still ask you: come with me.

In response to this offer, the White Cat only sighed deeply. They parted ways. The prince was the first to arrive at the castle where they had agreed to meet with his brothers. Soon, the brothers arrived as well and were very surprised to see a wooden horse in the palace, more spirited than all the horses kept in the riding school.

The prince went out to meet his brothers. They embraced and kissed and began to tell each other about their travels. But our prince did not tell his brothers about what had happened to him: showing them the pitiful little dog that had once turned the spit, he assured them that it had seemed so cute to him that he decided to bring it to the king. Although the brothers were close, the two elder ones secretly rejoiced that the youngest had made such a poor choice. They were sitting at the table at the time, and one nudged the other with his foot, as if to say that they had nothing to fear from this side in terms of competition.

The next day, the brothers set off together in one carriage. The two elder princes carried in their baskets two dogs, so beautiful and delicate that it was frightening to touch them. And the youngest carried the unfortunate little dog that turned the spit, so dirty that everyone shied away from it. The princes entered the king's chambers. The king did not know which dog to choose, because both dogs brought by the elder brothers were almost equally good. The brothers were already disputing among themselves the right to inherit the throne when the youngest resolved their argument by taking out the acorn given to him by the White Cat. He quickly cracked it open, and everyone saw a tiny dog lying inside on a fluffy cushion. The dog could have jumped through a wedding ring without touching it. The prince placed it on the ground, and it immediately began to dance the saraband with castanets as lightly as the most celebrated Spanish dancer. The dog shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow, and its soft fur and ears hung down to the floor.

The king was quite perplexed: the little dog was so beautiful that there was simply nothing to criticize.

However, the king had no desire to part with his crown. The smallest of its ornaments was dearer to him than all the dogs in the world. So he told his sons that he was very pleased with their efforts, but they had fulfilled his first wish so successfully that, before keeping his word, he wanted to test their diligence once more. He gave them a year to find a piece of cloth so fine that it could pass through the eye of the finest embroidery needle. All three were very upset that they would have to set out on a quest again. But the two princes, whose dogs were less beautiful than the one brought by the youngest, agreed. And each went his own way, bidding farewell not as amicably as the first time, because the dirty little dog that turned the spit had somewhat cooled their brotherly feelings.

Our prince mounted the wooden horse and, not wishing for help from anyone but the White Cat, in whose friendship he trusted, hurriedly set off and returned to the castle where he had once been so well received. All the gates were wide open, and the castle, with its windows, roof, towers, and walls illuminated by thousands of lamps, presented a marvelous sight. The hands that had served the prince so well before once again greeted the guest and, taking the reins of the magnificent wooden horse, led it to the stable, while the prince went to the chambers of the White Cat.

She was lying in a small basket on a white satin cushion, very elegantly dressed. True, her nightcap was in disarray and she herself seemed sad, but as soon as she saw the prince, she began to jump and frolic, showing him her joy.
"Although I had reasons to expect your return, son of the king," she said, "I must confess, I still did not dare to hope for it. Usually, I have no luck, and my wishes do not come true, which is why I am so pleasantly surprised."

The noble prince showered the Cat with affection. He told her about the outcome of his journey, though, by all appearances, she knew everything even better than he did. He also mentioned that the king had demanded a piece of cloth that could pass through the eye of a needle. Truth be told, the prince admitted, he did not believe that the king's whim could be fulfilled, but he had decided to try his luck, relying entirely on her friendship and assistance. The White Cat pondered and said that this was no easy task, but fortunately, among the cats in her castle, there were skilled spinners, and she herself would lend a paw to the work and hurry the spinners along. So, the prince should not worry or search far and wide for what he would sooner find with her than anywhere else.

Hands appeared, carrying torches, and the prince, following them along with the White Cat, entered a majestic gallery that stretched along a vast river, above which a marvelous fireworks display was being lit. In its flames, several cats were to be burned, having first been formally tried. They were accused of devouring the roast prepared for the White Cat's dinner, eating her cheese, drinking her milk, and even plotting against her person in collusion with Rubbaka and the Hermit—rats well-known in the area, as Lafontaine describes them, and this author always tells the truth. However, it turned out that the matter was not without intrigue, and many witnesses had been bribed. Be that as it may, the prince pleaded for the guilty to be pardoned. The fireworks harmed no one, and such beautiful pyrotechnics had never been seen before in the world.

Then an exquisite festive dinner was served, which brought the prince more pleasure than the fireworks, as he was very hungry, even though the wooden horse had brought him here at an incredible speed—faster than the prince had ever ridden before. The following days passed as they had the last time—in all sorts of festivities, with which the inventive White Cat entertained her guest. It was probably the first time a mortal had such a merry time with cats, without any other company around.

Indeed, the White Cat was endowed with a lively, responsive, and remarkably versatile mind. And she was as learned as cats never are. The prince was sometimes simply amazed.

"No," he kept telling her, "there's something not right here. You have too many extraordinary talents. If you love me, dear Kitty, reveal to me how it is that you reason and think so wisely, as if you could sit among the greatest minds in an academy?"

"Stop asking me questions, son of the king," she said. "I am not at liberty to answer them. You may speculate all you like, but I will not argue with you. Be content that, when I am with you, I do not bare my claws and take to heart everything that concerns you."

The second year passed as quickly as the first. As soon as the prince wished for something, helpful hands would immediately deliver it—be it books, precious stones, paintings, or ancient medals. He only had to say, "I dream of acquiring such-and-such a jewel from the collection of the Great Mogul or the Persian Shah, such-and-such a Corinthian or Greek statue," and the object of his desire would appear before him, delivered from who knows where. There was a certain charm in this—it was pleasant, for variety's sake, to be the owner of the most beautiful treasures in the world. The White Cat, never forgetting the prince's interests, informed him that the day of his departure was approaching, but he should not worry about the cloth he needed—she had prepared the most marvelous fabric for him.

"But this time," added the Cat, "I want to equip you for your journey in a manner befitting a prince of your high birth," and without waiting for the prince's response, she made him look out into the castle courtyard. There stood an open golden carriage, painted scarlet and adorned with gallant sayings that delighted both the eye and the mind. The carriage was drawn by twelve snow-white horses in harnesses of scarlet velvet, embroidered with diamonds and trimmed with gold plates. The inside of the carriage was lined with the same velvet, and behind it followed a hundred carriages: each drawn by eight horses, with noble lords in luxurious attire seated inside. In addition to them, a thousand guardsmen followed the carriage, their uniforms so richly embroidered that the fabric itself was barely visible. And the most astonishing thing—everywhere there were portraits of the White Cat: among the inscriptions on the first carriage, in the embroidery on the guardsmen's uniforms; her portraits also hung on ribbons over the doublets worn by the lords in the retinue—as if the White Cat had bestowed upon them this new order.

"Go," said the Cat to the prince, "and appear at your father the king's court so splendidly that, upon seeing all this magnificence, he will not deny you the crown you have earned. Here is a nut for you, but be careful not to crack it before you stand before the king—inside it, you will find the cloth you asked for."

"Dear White Cat," said the prince, "I am so touched by your kindness that I confess, if you agreed, I would prefer to spend my life by your side rather than chase after honors, which I may have a right to expect elsewhere."

"Son of the king," replied the White Cat, "I am sure you have a good heart, and that is a rare commodity among royalty. They want everyone to love them, but they themselves love no one. But you prove that there are exceptions to every rule. I appreciate your devotion to the White Cat, who, truth be told, is only good for catching mice."

The prince kissed her paw and set off on his journey. If one did not know that the wooden horse had taken less than two days to bring the prince five hundred leagues from the White Cat's castle, it would be hard to imagine the speed at which he traveled this time: the same force that animated the wooden horse now drove the prince's carriage so swiftly that he and his entourage spent no more than a day on the road—without stopping even once, they arrived at the king's court, where his two elder brothers had already appeared. Seeing that their younger brother had not shown up, the princes rejoiced at his tardiness and whispered to each other, "Here's the lucky one—probably he fell ill or died, and he won't be our rival in the important matter that lies ahead." And they unfolded the fabrics they had brought, which were indeed so fine that they could pass through the eye of a thick needle—but not through the eye of a thin one. The king, very pleased to have found a reason to dispute their claims, showed them the needle he had in mind: on his order, the city councilors had retrieved it from the city treasury, where it was kept under strong locks.
This dispute caused a great uproar. The friends of the princes, especially the elder one, whose canvas was more beautiful, claimed that this was mere nitpicking and that there was a whiff of legalistic trickery and deceit. Meanwhile, the king's supporters argued that since the conditions had not been met, the king was under no obligation to relinquish the throne. The end to the bickering came with the marvelous sounds of trumpets, timpani, and oboes – it was our prince arriving with his splendid entourage. Both the king and his two sons were struck by such magnificence.

After respectfully bowing to his father and embracing his brothers, the prince took out a ruby-studded nut from a box and cracked it open. He hoped to find the famed canvas inside, but instead, there was a smaller hazelnut. The prince cracked this nut as well and was greatly surprised to find a cherry pit inside.

The onlookers exchanged glances, and the king chuckled softly: he was amused by his son, who had been so naive as to believe that a piece of canvas could be carried inside a nutshell. But why wouldn’t he believe it, given that the prince had already managed to procure a dog that could fit inside an acorn? So, the prince cracked the cherry pit, and inside was a cherry kernel. At this point, a murmur rose in the hall, and everyone began to say in unison that the prince had been fooled. The prince did not respond to the courtiers' mockery – he split the kernel, finding a grain of wheat inside, and within that, a millet seed. Well, well! Now even the prince began to doubt and muttered through his teeth:

"Ah, White Cat, White Cat! You’ve made a fool of me!"

But no sooner had he muttered these words than he felt cat claws dig into his hand, drawing blood. He couldn’t tell whether the scratch was meant to encourage him or, on the contrary, to rob him of his courage. Nevertheless, he split the millet seed, and to the astonishment of all present, the prince extracted from it four hundred ells of fabric of extraordinary beauty – on it were depicted all the birds, beasts, and fish that exist on earth, as well as trees, fruits, and plants; all the wonders of the sea, shells, and rocks; and all the celestial bodies – the sun, moon, stars, and planets. The fabric also bore images of kings and other rulers who reigned at that time in various countries, along with their wives, lovers, children, and every single subject, so that even the poorest beggar was not forgotten. Each figure was dressed according to their status and in the fashion of their country. Upon seeing this fabric, the king turned as pale as the prince had earlier blushed, embarrassed by how long he had taken to find the canvas. A needle was brought, and the fabric was threaded through its eye six times in both directions. The king and his two elder sons remained sullenly silent, though the fabric was of such rare beauty that from time to time they were forced to admit that the world had never seen anything like it.

Finally, the king took a deep breath and, turning to his sons, said:

"In my old age, there is no greater comfort than to see your respect for me, and so I wish to subject you to one more test. Go and wander for another year, and whoever, at the end of this time, brings back the most beautiful maiden, let him marry her and, upon the wedding, receive my crown: for my successor must surely marry. And I promise, I swear, that I will no longer delay and will grant him the promised reward."

Of course, this was unfair to our prince. Both the dog and the fabric he had brought were worth not one but ten kingdoms. But the prince had such a noble heart that he did not argue with his father and, without further ado, boarded his carriage. His entire entourage followed him, and he returned to his dear White Cat. She had known in advance the day and hour of his arrival – his entire path was strewn with flowers, and everywhere, especially in the palace, incense was burning. The White Cat sat on a Persian carpet under a gold-embroidered canopy in the gallery, from where she could see the prince approaching the palace. The prince was greeted by the same hands that had served him before. And all the cats jumped onto the gutters and from there welcomed him with loud meows.

"Well, son of the king," said the White Cat, "you have returned again, and without the crown?"

"Your Majesty," he replied, "your kindness has helped me earn it, but it seems the king is so reluctant to part with it that, were I to receive it, his grief would far outweigh my joy."

"Nevertheless," she retorted, "we must do everything to obtain it. I will help you in this, and since you need to bring a beautiful maiden to your father's court, I will find you one who will help you earn the reward. But for now, let us enjoy ourselves. I have ordered a sea battle to be staged between the cats and the wicked local rats. My cats may be uneasy, as they fear water, but otherwise, they would have too great an advantage, and we must strive to be fair."

The prince was delighted by the wisdom of Madame Cat. He praised her at length, and then they went out together onto the terrace overlooking the sea. The cats' ships were large pieces of cork bark, on which the cats sailed quite skillfully. The rats, on the other hand, had joined together numerous eggshells – this was their fleet. The battle was fierce, and the rats often swam, as they were much better swimmers than the cats, so the victory swung back and forth a score of times. But the admiral of the cats' fleet, Cataus, threw the rat army into despair. He devoured their leader – an old, experienced rat who had circumnavigated the globe three times on real ships, though not as a captain or sailor, but as a mere lover of bacon.
But the White Cat did not want the unfortunate rats to be completely defeated. She was a wise politician and believed that if there were no mice or rats left in the country at all, her subjects would indulge in idleness, which could harm her. The prince spent this year as he had the previous two, that is, hunting, fishing, or sitting at the chessboard, because the White Cat played chess excellently.

The prince could not help but occasionally start questioning her again about how it was possible for her to speak. He wanted to know if she was a fairy or if she had been turned into a cat by witchcraft. The White Cat always said only what she wanted to say, and she answered only what she wanted to answer; in this case, she dismissed him with vague words, and the prince soon realized that she did not want to reveal her secret to him.

Nothing flows as quickly as cloudless and serene days, and if the White Cat had not remembered the time when the prince had to return to the court, he himself would undoubtedly have forgotten about it. And so, on the eve of the day when he was to return, the Cat told the prince that it was up to him alone whether he would bring one of the most beautiful princesses in the world to his father's court, and that the moment had come to break the spell of the evil fairies, but for this, the prince had to decide to cut off her head and immediately throw her tail into the fire.

"What!" exclaimed the prince. "My dear White Cat! Could I really commit such a villainy and kill you! No, you simply want to test my heart, but believe me, it will never betray the friendship and gratitude I feel for you." "Calm down, son of the king," she replied. "I do not suspect you of ingratitude, I know your valor, but our fate is not for you or me to decide. Do as I ask, and we will both be happy. I swear by the honor of a noble cat, you will see that I am your true friend."

At the thought of having to cut off the head of his dear Cat, so lovely and graceful, tears welled up in the prince's eyes again and again. He once more tried to persuade her with the tenderest words to spare him from such a task, but she stubbornly insisted that she wanted to perish by his hand and that this was the only way to prevent his brothers from gaining the crown. In short, she so passionately convinced the prince that he, trembling all over, drew his sword from its sheath and with an unsteady hand cut off the head and tail of his dear companion. And then, before his eyes, a wondrous transformation took place. The body of the White Cat began to grow, and suddenly she turned into a maiden, and such a beauty that it was impossible to describe. Her eyes captivated hearts, and her tenderness held them captive. Her bearing was majestic, her whole appearance noble and modest, she was both intelligent and courteous—in short, beyond all praise.

The prince, seeing her, was struck, but struck so pleasantly that he thought he must be enchanted. He lost the power of speech, he looked at the beautiful maiden and could not look enough, but his disobedient tongue was unable to express his amazement. The prince recovered only when suddenly a multitude of ladies and gentlemen appeared, with cat or kitten skins draped over their shoulders, and all of them prostrated themselves before the queen, rejoicing that she had regained her natural human form. She responded to them so kindly that it was immediately clear what a good heart she had. After talking for a few minutes with her courtiers, she ordered that she be left alone with the prince. And then she began her story.

"Do not think, prince, that I have always been a Cat or that my origins are obscure. My father was the ruler of six kingdoms. He dearly loved my mother and allowed her to do whatever she pleased. And she loved traveling more than anything, and so, when she was pregnant with me, she wanted to see a mountain about which all sorts of wonders were told. On the way to this mountain, the queen was told that nearby was an ancient castle where fairies lived, and that there was no more beautiful castle in the world, at least according to the legend that has come down to us, because no one could judge for themselves, as no human foot had ever stepped there; one thing is known for sure—in the fairies' garden grow such beautiful fruits, juicy and tender, as no one has ever tasted.

My mother, the queen, was suddenly seized by such an uncontrollable desire to taste these fruits that she turned toward the castle. She approached the gates of a magnificent dwelling that sparkled with gold and azure stone, but in vain did she knock on the doors—no one appeared at her knock—it seemed the castle was deserted. However, this obstacle only fueled my mother's impatience, she sent her servants to bring rope ladders to climb over the garden fence, and they would have succeeded, had the walls not begun to grow before their eyes. Then the queen's servants began tying one ladder to another, but the ladders broke under those who tried to climb them, and people fell to the ground, breaking their arms and legs or falling to their deaths.

The queen was in despair: she saw the branches bending under the weight of the fruits, which seemed to her extraordinarily delicious, and decided that if she did not taste them, she would die. And so she ordered luxurious tents to be pitched near the castle and lived there for a month and a half with her retinue. She did not sleep, did not eat, but only sighed and spoke of the fruits of this inaccessible garden. Finally, she fell dangerously ill, and no one could alleviate her suffering, because the relentless fairies had not even once shown themselves to the queen since she had pitched her tents near their dwelling. All the courtiers were in terrible grief. In the tents, there were only tears and groans, and the dying queen begged those who served her to bring her the fruits, but she desired only those fruits that had been denied to her.

One night, when she managed to fall asleep for a short while, she woke up to see a little old woman, ugly and decrepit, sitting in a chair by her bedside. Before the queen could wonder why her ladies-in-waiting had allowed a stranger to approach her, the old woman suddenly said:

'Your Majesty is greatly troubling us by stubbornly wishing to taste the fruits from our trees. But since it is a matter of your precious life, we have decided to give you as many fruits as you can carry away with you and eat here, on the spot, but in return, you must give us a gift.'

'Ah, good mother,' exclaimed the queen, 'speak, I am ready to give you my kingdom, my heart, my soul, just to eat your fruits, I would spare nothing to have them.'

'We want,' replied the old woman, 'for you to give us the daughter you carry in your womb. As soon as she is born, we will take her to us. We will raise her ourselves, we will endow her with all virtues, beauty, and learning, in short, she will become our child, we will make her happy, but remember that Your Majesty will not see her until she is married. If you agree to these terms, I will immediately cure you and take you to our garden. Though it is night, you will see everything as if it were day, and you will be able to choose whatever you wish. But if my words do not please you, good night, Madam Queen, I am going to sleep.'"
"However harsh your conditions may be," replied the queen, "I accept them, for otherwise I shall die: I feel that I cannot last another day, and thus, perishing myself, I shall doom my child. Heal me, wise fairy," she continued, "and allow me without delay to make use of the promised right."

Touching the queen with her golden wand, the fairy said:

"May Your Majesty be freed from the illness that binds you to your bed," and at once the queen felt as though her body had been released from the heavy, coarse garments that had constrained it, though in some places she still felt their touch—perhaps where the illness had struck her most deeply. The queen called her ladies and, smiling, told them that she felt splendid, that she would rise now, that the tightly locked, impenetrable doors of the enchanted castle would finally open before her, and that she would be able to eat the wondrous fruits and take some with her.

The ladies all imagined that the queen was delirious and that in her delirium she was dreaming of the coveted fruits. Without answering her, they burst into tears and went to wake the doctors to see what was wrong with the queen. The queen, however, was desperate because of this delay. She ordered her dress to be brought to her immediately—the ladies refused, the queen grew angry, her face flushed. Those around her decided she had a fever. Yet the doctors came and, after feeling the queen's pulse and performing all the necessary procedures, had to admit that the queen was perfectly healthy. The court ladies, realizing the blunder they had made out of zeal, hastened to make amends by dressing the queen as quickly as possible. Each of them begged her forgiveness, everyone calmed down, and the queen hurried after the old fairy, who was still waiting for her.

The queen entered the palace, which was so beautiful that no other palace could compare to it. You will easily believe me, prince," added the White Cat, "if I tell you that this is the very palace where you and I now stand. The two other fairies, younger than the first, greeted my mother at the threshold and welcomed her warmly. She asked them to take her immediately to the garden, to the trellises where the finest fruits grew.

"All of them are equally good," replied the fairies, "and if it were not for your desire to pick them yourself, we could simply call them, and they would appear at our summons."

"I beg you, ladies," exclaimed the queen, "grant me the delightful opportunity to witness this marvel."

The eldest of the fairies put her fingers to her mouth and whistled three times, then called out:

"Apricots, peaches, cherries, plums, pears, sweet cherries, melons, grapes, apples, oranges, lemons, currants, strawberries, raspberries, appear at my call!"

"But those you summon," the queen said in surprise, "ripen at different times of the year."

"Not in our garden," replied the fairies. "All the fruits that grow on earth are ripe, juicy, and never rot or become wormy here all year round."

And at that moment, all those summoned by the fairy appeared—they rolled and tumbled about in a jumble, yet without being crushed or soiled. The queen, burning with impatience to fulfill her desire, rushed to them and grabbed the first ones that came to hand. She did not eat them but greedily swallowed them whole.
Having satisfied her hunger a little, she asked the fairies to take her to the trellises to admire the fruits before picking them.

"Gladly," all three replied, "only do not forget the promise you made to us; you cannot go back on it now."

"I am sure," said the queen, "that living with you is very pleasant, and your palace is so beautiful that, were it not for my deep love for my husband the king, I would gladly stay with you myself. So do not worry, I will not break my word."

The fairies, very pleased with her words, opened all the gates and doors for the queen, and she remained in their garden for three days and three nights, unwilling to leave—so much did she enjoy the fruits. She picked some fruits for herself and for storage, and since they never spoiled, she ordered four thousand mules to be loaded with them to take them back. The fairies gave the queen golden baskets of exquisite craftsmanship to hold the fruits they had gifted her, and they also presented her with many precious treasures. They promised the queen to raise me as a princess, to endow me with all perfections, and to find a husband for me, and they assured her that they would notify her of the wedding date and hoped she would attend.

The king was overjoyed that the queen had finally returned, and so was the entire court. Balls were followed by masquerades, equestrian competitions, and all sorts of feasts, during which the fruits brought by the queen were served as a special delicacy. The king preferred them to all other treats. He knew nothing of the agreement the queen had made with the fairies and often asked her in which country she had been and where she had found such marvelous fruits.

The queen replied that they grew on an almost inaccessible mountain, but another time she claimed they grew in valleys, and then in a garden or a dense forest. The king was puzzled by her contradictory answers. He tried to question her companions, those who had accompanied the queen on her journey, but she had warned them so many times to keep silent about her adventure that they dared not utter a word. However, seeing that her time to give birth was approaching, the queen began to worry about the promise she had made to the fairies and fell into deep sorrow. She sighed constantly and visibly changed. The king lost his peace of mind. He begged the queen to tell him what was troubling her, and after much hesitation, she finally confessed everything that had happened between her and the fairies and how she had promised to give them the daughter she was about to bear.

"What am I hearing!" exclaimed the king. "We have no children, you know how much I long for them, and for the sake of eating a few apples, you are willing to promise away your daughter? It seems you do not love me at all."

And he showered the queen with such harsh reproaches that my poor mother nearly died of grief. But the king was not satisfied with this—he ordered the queen to be locked in a tower, with guards posted around it so she could not communicate with anyone except her servants, and then he dismissed all the courtiers who had accompanied the queen to the fairies' castle.

The rift between the king and the queen cast the entire court into deep gloom. Instead of their usual attire, everyone wore clothes that expressed universal mourning. As for the king, he was unyielding—he no longer wished to see his wife, and as soon as I was born, he ordered me to be brought to the palace to grow up near him, while my poor mother remained a prisoner. The fairies, of course, knew everything that was happening. They were furious—they wanted me to live with them, they considered me their property, and they felt that I had been stolen from them. Before finding a way to exact revenge commensurate with their anger, they sent a grand embassy to the king, asking him to release the queen from captivity, restore his favor to her, and also to hand me over to their envoys so they could raise and educate me themselves. But the fairies' messengers were so tiny and ugly—they were hideous dwarfs—that they failed to persuade the king. He rudely refused their requests, and if they had not hurried away, things might have ended badly for them.

Upon learning of my father's actions, the fairies flew into a terrible rage and, after unleashing dreadful calamities upon his six kingdoms to devastate them, they also sent a fearsome dragon that poisoned the places it passed through, devoured men and children, and with its breath destroyed trees and plants.

The king was in despair. He consulted all the wise men of his kingdom about what to do to save his subjects from the misfortunes that had befallen them. The wise men advised him to summon the best doctors from around the world and bring the finest medicinal remedies, and also to offer pardons to criminals sentenced to death who were willing to fight the dragon. The king liked this advice and followed it, but it did not help. People continued to die, and the dragon devoured all those who dared to fight it, so the king had to turn for help to a fairy who had been his patron since his early years. She was very old and rarely left her bed, so the king went to her himself and reproached her for seeing his misfortunes but refusing to help.

"I can do nothing," said the fairy. "You have angered my sisters. We possess equal power and rarely act against one another. It would be better to appease them by giving them your daughter—the little princess belongs to them. You have imprisoned the queen, but what crime has this noble woman committed to deserve such cruelty from you? Decide to fulfill the promise she made to the fairies, and believe me, you will be showered with blessings."

My father, the king, loved me dearly, but seeing no other way to save his kingdom and rid it of the destructive dragon, he told his fairy friend that he had decided to follow her advice and was ready to give me to the fairies, since she assured him that I would be cherished and nurtured as befitted a princess of my birth. He also promised to return the queen to the palace and asked the fairy to tell him whom he should entrust with taking me to the fairies' magical abode.
– The princess in her cradle must be taken to the summit of Flower Mountain, – replied the fairy, – you may even stay nearby to witness the festivities that will unfold there.

Then the king told her that in a week's time, he and the queen would go to this mountain, and let the fairy inform her sisters so they could arrange everything as they saw fit. As soon as the king returned to the castle, he sent for the queen and received her as tenderly and solemnly as he had angrily and harshly sent her into confinement. She was distraught and so changed that he would hardly have recognized her, had his heart not assured him that she was the same woman he had loved. With tears in his eyes, he begged her to forget all the sorrows he had caused her and assured her that he would never grieve her again in his life. She replied that she had brought these sorrows upon herself by rashly promising the fairies to give them her daughter, and that only the fact that she had been expecting at the time could excuse her. The king told his wife that he had decided to give me to the fairies.

Here the queen began to resist his intention. One might have thought it was some kind of fate, and that I was forever destined to be a source of discord between my parents. My mother wept and lamented for a long time, but she did not achieve what she wanted (the king saw the terrible consequences of defying the fairies, as our subjects continued to perish, as if they were guilty of the sins of our family); finally, the queen relented, and everything was prepared for the ceremony.

I was placed in a cradle made of mother-of-pearl, adorned with the creations of the most exquisite art. The cradle was entwined with live flowers and garlands of multicolored gemstones, which sparkled so dazzlingly in the sunlight that it hurt to look at them. The luxury of my attire surpassed, if possible, the luxury of the cradle: my swaddling clothes were fastened with large pearls. I was carried on a special, light litter by twenty-four princesses of royal blood, dressed differently but all in white as a sign of my innocence. Behind us followed the courtiers, each in their proper place.

As we ascended the slope of the mountain, everyone heard a melodious music that grew closer. Finally, the fairies appeared – there were thirty-six of them, for they had summoned all their friends. Each sat in a pearl shell, larger than the one on which Venus had emerged from the sea. They were drawn by sea horses, which stepped rather uncertainly on the ground. The fairies were dressed more lavishly than the greatest earthly queens – but they were old and ugly. They held olive branches in their hands to let the king know that his obedience had earned their favor. And when I was handed over to them, they showered me with such fervent caresses that one might have thought they had no other purpose in life than to make me happy.

The dragon, which had been avenging my father at their command, followed them on a diamond chain. The fairies passed me from hand to hand, caressed me, and bestowed upon me many fortunate qualities, and then began the fairy dance. It was a very merry dance: it was hard to imagine how spryly the old ladies skipped and jumped. Then the dragon, which had devoured so many people, crawled up to them on its knees. Three fairies – the ones to whom my mother had promised to give me – mounted it, and my cradle was placed in the middle. As soon as they struck the dragon with a magic wand, it spread its huge scaly wings, thinner than the finest silk. On this dragon, the fairies headed to their castle. My mother, seeing me placed on the back of the terrible monster, could not help but cry out. But the king comforted his wife, citing his patron fairy, who had assured him that no harm would come to me and that I would be cared for as well as in his own palace.

The queen calmed down, though it saddened her greatly to part with me for such a long time, and it was her own fault, for had she not desired to taste the fruits of the enchanted garden, I would have remained in my father's kingdom and would not have suffered the sorrows I am about to tell you about.

Know then, son of the king, that my guardians built a tower for me, with many beautiful rooms – one for each season – and in them were expensive furnishings, interesting books, but there were no doors in the tower – one could only enter through a window located very high up. In the tower was a beautiful garden with flowers, fountains, and arches of green alleys that protected from the heat in the height of summer. In this tower, the fairies raised me, surrounding me with care even greater than they had promised the queen. I was always dressed in the latest fashion and so lavishly that if anyone had seen me, they would have thought I was wearing a wedding dress. I was taught everything befitting a person of my age and origin. I caused the fairies no trouble – I absorbed everything with indescribable ease. My meekness pleased them, and since I never saw anyone but them, I might have lived in peace until the end of my days.

The fairies visited me regularly on the dragon I have already told you about. They never mentioned the queen or the king, they called me their daughter, and I believed them. In the tower, only a parrot and a little dog lived with me, which the fairies had given me to entertain me, for both were endowed with reason and spoke human language. One side of the tower faced a ravine, along the bottom of which ran a road, potholed and overgrown with trees, which is why, since I was placed in the tower, I had never seen anyone travel along it.

But one day, as I stood by the window, talking to the parrot and the dog, I heard a noise. I looked around and saw a young horseman who had stopped to listen to our conversation. Until then, I had only seen men in paintings. I had no objection to this unexpected encounter and, unaware of how dangerous it was to gaze upon an object worthy of love, I stepped closer to get a better look at the young man, and the more I looked at him, the more pleasure it gave me. He bowed low to me, not taking his eyes off me, and it was clear that he was at a loss, searching for a way to speak to me: my window was very high, and he feared he might be heard, for he knew I lived in the fairies' castle.

It grew dark quite suddenly, or rather, we simply did not notice how dark it had become: the young man blew his horn several times, delighting my ears with its sounds, and then disappeared. But it was so dark that I did not even see which way he had ridden off. I fell into deep thought, and the chatter of my parrot and dog no longer brought me the usual pleasure.

Meanwhile, they spoke very amusingly, for magical animals are endowed with wit, but my thoughts were elsewhere, and I did not know how to pretend. The parrot noticed this, but he was cunning and did not show what observations he had made.
I woke up at dawn and immediately rushed to the window. I was pleasantly surprised to see a young gentleman at the foot of the tower. He was dressed in a magnificent outfit. "He must have put it on for me," I thought, and I wasn’t mistaken. The young man spoke to me through a peculiar horn that amplified his voice. With its help, he told me that until now he had been indifferent to the beauties he had encountered, but my beauty had struck him so instantly that from now on he simply had to see me every day—otherwise, he would die. I was very pleased with his kind words, but I was upset that I couldn’t answer him: to do so, I would have had to shout loudly, and then the fairies would have heard me better than he did. I had flowers in my hands, and I threw them to him. He accepted them as an unspeakable mercy, showered them with kisses, and began to thank me. Then he asked if I would allow him to come to my window at a designated hour every day and if I would agree to give him something as a keepsake. I had a turquoise ring on my hand; I tore it off my finger and hastily threw it to the young man, making a sign because I heard the evil fairy approaching the tower on her dragon, bringing me breakfast.

The first words she uttered upon entering my room were, "I sense a human voice! Search, dragon!" What happened to me then! I froze in fear at the thought that the dragon might fly out through another window, chasing the young man who was no longer indifferent to me.

"Surely you’re joking, my dear mother," I said (the old fairy insisted I call her "mother"). "You’re joking when you say you sense a human voice. Do voices have a smell? And even if they do, what mortal would dare to climb this tower?"

"You’re right, my daughter," she replied. "I’m very glad you reason so wisely. It’s just that my hatred for humans is so great that sometimes it feels as if they are nearby."

She handed me my breakfast and my spinning wheel.

"Once you’ve eaten, get to work. You spent yesterday in idleness," she said. "My sisters will be angry."

Indeed, I had been thinking so much about the stranger that I hadn’t touched my work.

As soon as the fairy flew away, I stubbornly pushed aside the spinning wheel and climbed onto the terrace to see as far as possible. I had an excellent telescope—everything was within my sight. I looked around and saw my stranger on top of a mountain. Surrounded by a splendid court, he rested under the shade of a rich, gold-embroidered canopy. I realized he was the son of some king living near the enchanted castle. Fearing that the terrible dragon might sense the young man if he returned to the tower, I ordered my parrot to fly to that mountain. There, he would find the one who had spoken to me and ask him, on my behalf, not to return, because I was afraid the fairies, who watched me closely, might play a cruel trick on him.

The parrot carried out my task as befits a clever bird. The courtiers were very surprised when he flapped his wings, landed on the prince’s shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. The prince was both delighted and saddened by this message. He was pleased that I worried about him, but the obstacles preventing him from speaking with me weighed heavily on him, though they did not extinguish his determination to win my favor. He bombarded the parrot with questions, and the parrot, in turn, bombarded the prince with questions, for he was naturally curious. The prince asked the messenger to give me a ring in exchange for my turquoise one: his ring was also made of turquoise but much more beautiful than mine, carved in the shape of a heart and studded with diamonds.

"Rightfully," the prince said to the parrot, "I should treat you as an ambassador. Here is my portrait; do not show it to anyone except your charming mistress."

And he hid his portrait under the parrot’s wing, while the parrot carried the ring in his beak. I awaited the return of my green messenger with an impatience I had never known before. The parrot told me that the one I had sent him to was a powerful sovereign, that he had received him most graciously, and that I should know: from now on, he lived and breathed only for me. Even if appearing at the tower posed a danger to him, he would rather perish than not see me. This news threw me into terrible anxiety, and I began to cry. The parrot and the little dog took turns comforting me, for they loved me dearly. Then the parrot gave me the prince’s ring and showed me his portrait. I confess, the opportunity to gaze closely at the one I had only seen from afar brought me incomparable joy. I liked the prince even more than before; my mind was filled with a multitude of thoughts, both joyful and sorrowful, which left me in a state of extraordinary excitement. The fairies, who came to visit me, noticed this immediately. They decided among themselves that I must be longing for something and that they needed to find me a husband from the fairy world.

They considered many suitors and finally settled on King Migonne, a dwarf whose kingdom lay five hundred thousand miles from the castle. But this did not trouble the fairies. The parrot overheard what was said at their noble council and told me everything.

"Ah, my dear mistress," he added, "how I pity you if you have to become Queen Migonnetta. The king is a grotesque creature, horrible to look at. It saddens me to tell you this, but to be honest, the prince who loves you wouldn’t even take him as a servant."

"Have you seen him, parrot?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied. "We grew up on the same branch."

"What do you mean, on the same branch?" I asked.

"Well," said the parrot, "Migonne has eagle claws for feet."
This story plunged me into deep sorrow. I gazed at the portrait of the beautiful prince, understanding that he had given the portrait to the parrot only so that I could see it. And when I compared the prince to Migonne, I lost all taste for life and would rather have died than marry the dwarf.

I spent the night without sleep. The parrot and the little dog entertained me with their chatter. By morning, I finally dozed off, and then the little dog, who had a keen sense of smell, detected that the prince was standing at the foot of the tower. She woke the parrot:

"I bet," said the little dog, "that the prince is down there."
"Quiet, chatterbox," replied the parrot. "You hardly close your eyes, and your ears are always perked up, so you don’t let others sleep."

"Let’s make a bet," insisted the kind little dog, "I know he’s there!"

"And I’m sure he’s not," retorted the parrot. "Didn’t I myself, on behalf of our mistress, forbid him from coming here?"
"Oh, you’ve made me laugh with your prohibitions," exclaimed the little dog. "Would a lover listen to anyone but his own heart?"

With these words, the little dog tugged so hard at the parrot’s wings that he became angry. The cries of both woke me up, and they explained to me the reason for their argument. I rushed—or rather, flew—to the window and saw the prince. He was stretching out his arms to me and, through his speaking trumpet, declared that he could no longer live without me and begged me to find a way to leave the tower or let him inside. He swore by all the gods, heaven, earth, fire, and water that he would immediately make me his wife, and I would become one of the most powerful queens in the world.

I ordered the parrot to tell the prince that his desire was nearly impossible to fulfill, but still, relying on his oaths, I would try to grant his request. However, I begged him not to come here every day, as he might be noticed, and the fairies know no mercy.

He left beside himself with joy, buoyed by the hope I had given him, while I, reflecting on what I had promised, was utterly bewildered. How could I leave the tower, which had no doors? And with no other helpers besides the parrot and the little dog? Moreover, I was so young, inexperienced, and timid. I even resolved not to attempt what I could never succeed in and sent the parrot to convey this to the prince. The prince wanted to end his life right in front of the parrot and entrusted him with persuading me to come to him, to see him die or to comfort him.

"Sire!" cried the winged messenger, "there’s no need to persuade my mistress—she is full of desire to comfort you, but it is not within her power."

When the parrot told me everything that had happened, my grief only deepened. The wicked fairy appeared. She noticed that my eyes were red and swollen, realized I had been crying, and said that if I did not reveal the reason for my tears, she would burn me. Her threats were always terrifying. Trembling, I replied that I was tired of sitting at the spinning wheel and that I wanted to weave nets to catch the birds that had pecked at the fruit in my garden.

"There’s no need to cry over that, my daughter," she said. "I’ll bring you as many cords as you want."

And indeed, she delivered the cords that very evening, but she warned me to work less and prettify myself, for King Migonne would soon arrive. I shuddered at this sorrowful news but remained silent. As soon as she flew away, I sat down to weave the net, though in reality, I was weaving a rope ladder, and it turned out excellently, even though I had never seen a rope ladder before. True, the cords the fairy brought were not enough, and she repeated:
– My daughter, your work resembles that of Penelope; it does not progress, and yet you keep asking for new laces. – As you wish, dear mother, – I replied, – but do you not see that I do not know how to weave nets and only ruin everything? Or perhaps you fear that I will bankrupt you with these laces? My naivety amused the fairy, though, generally speaking, she was always gloomy and very cruel.

I sent the parrot to inform the prince to come to the tower window in the evening, where he would see a ladder, and I would tell him what to do next when he arrived. I had indeed firmly tied the ladder to the window, determined to escape with him. But upon seeing the ladder, the prince did not wait for me to descend; instead, he hurriedly climbed up and entered my room just as I had prepared everything for my escape. I was so overjoyed by his arrival that I even forgot about the danger we faced. He renewed his vows and begged me to name him my husband without delay. The parrot and the little dog were the witnesses to our marriage. Never had a wedding of two such noble individuals been celebrated so modestly and quietly, yet never had there been hearts happier than ours.

The prince left me before dawn; I revealed to him the fairy’s terrible plan to marry me off to the dwarf Migonne, and I described the dwarf’s hideous appearance—he inspired the same horror in the prince as he did in me. As soon as my husband departed, the minutes dragged on like years. I ran to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the darkness, but imagine my astonishment when I saw a fiery chariot in the air, drawn by winged salamanders flying so fast that the eye could barely discern them. Behind the chariot, mounted on ostriches, raced the bodyguards. I did not have time to see the monster flying through the air, but I immediately understood that it was some sorceress or wizard.

Some time later, the Wicked Fairy entered my room. – I have good news for you, – she announced. – Your fiancé arrived a few hours ago. Prepare to receive him. Here is your attire and jewels. – Who told you I wish to marry? – I exclaimed. – I have no such intention. Send King Migonne away; for his sake, I will not even pin an extra brooch: whether I appear beautiful or ugly to him, he shall not see me. – Oh-ho! – said the fairy, growing angry. – What a rebel! What a brainless girl! But I am not joking, I will... – What more can you do to me? – I interrupted the fairy, blushing at her insults. – What could be sadder than my fate—to drag out my days in this tower in the company of a parrot and a little dog, admiring the terrifying sight of a sinister dragon several times a day? – Ah, you wretch! – cried the fairy. – Why did we ever pamper and cherish you? I always told my sisters that we would be repaid with black ingratitude. And she went to her sisters and told them about our quarrel. And they were all enraged by my behavior.

The parrot and the little dog fervently tried to convince me that if I continued to be stubborn, I would bring terrible misfortunes upon myself. But I was so proud of having won the heart of a powerful sovereign that I disregarded both the fairies’ anger and the advice of my poor little friends. I did not dress up and deliberately styled my hair carelessly to repel Migonne. Our meeting took place on the terrace. He descended there in his fiery chariot. Since dwarves first appeared in the world, never had anyone seen such a tiny creature. He walked on his eagle-like claws and knees simultaneously because his legs were boneless, and he had to rely on diamond crutches. His royal mantle, only half a yard long, dragged a third of its length on the ground. His head was the size of a huge barrel, and his nose was so long that a whole flock of birds perched on it—the dwarf was amused by their chirping; his beard was so thick that canaries had nested in it, and his ears stuck out a full yard above his head, though this was hardly noticeable because the dwarf wore a tall pointed crown to appear taller. The flames from his chariot scorched the fruits, dried the flowers, and drained the springs in my garden. He moved toward me with open arms, and I stood rooted to the spot. The chief groom had to lift the dwarf, but as soon as he brought him close to me, I ran to my room, locked all the windows, and Migonne, in a terrible rage, went to the fairies.

They repeatedly apologized to him for my fickleness and, to appease Migonne, whom they feared, decided to bring the dwarf to my room at night while I slept, bind me hand and foot, and place me in his fiery chariot so he could take me away. Having devised this plan, the fairies barely scolded me for my behavior. They only said that I must try to atone for my guilt. The parrot and the little dog were very surprised by the fairies’ leniency. – My heart senses something amiss, mistress, – said the little dog. – One can expect anything from fairies, especially from the Wicked Fairy. But I laughed at her fears and eagerly awaited my dear husband. Burning with impatience, he did not delay in coming: I threw him a rope ladder, determined to escape with him. He easily climbed into my room and spoke such tender words to me that I still hesitate to recall them.

We conversed as peacefully as if we were in his palace, when suddenly someone shattered the windows of my room, and the fairies flew in on their terrible dragon. Behind them, in the fiery chariot, came Migonne, followed by his bodyguards on ostriches. The prince fearlessly drew his sword, thinking only of how to save me from the worst possible fate, and—what can I say, sire? The heartless creatures set their dragon on the prince, and the dragon devoured him before my eyes.

Mad with grief, I threw myself into the monster’s maw, wishing for the dragon to swallow me as it had just swallowed the one dearest to me in the world. The dragon itself was not averse to devouring me, but the fairies, crueler than the dragon, did not allow it. – No, – they exclaimed, – she must be preserved for longer torment; a quick death is too mild a punishment for this unworthy creature! They touched me with their wand, and I suddenly turned into a White Cat. They brought me to this castle. They turned all the ladies and gentlemen, my father’s subjects, into cats, and some they made invisible, with only their hands visible. They left me in the sorrowful form in which you found me and, revealing to me who my late father and mother were, declared that only a prince who resembled the husband they had taken from me like two drops of water could restore my human form. You, sire, turned out to resemble him, – she continued, – the same features, the same manners, the same voice. They struck me at our very first meeting. I knew everything that was to happen. I still know what awaits me: my torment will end. – And how long will mine last, beautiful queen? – exclaimed the prince, throwing himself at her feet. – I have already come to love you more than my own life, sire, – replied the queen, – but it is time to go to your father; let us see how he receives me and whether he agrees to what you desire.

The queen left, leaning on the prince’s arm, and sat with him in a carriage far more luxurious than any he had before. And all the rest of their entourage matched the carriage, with the horses’ hooves made of emerald and studded with diamond nails. Such a magnificent procession had likely never been seen before. I will not recount the pleasant conversations between the queen and the prince: no one could rival her not only in beauty but also in wit, and the young prince was her equal in every way, so it is no wonder that the most refined thoughts came to their minds.

When they neared the castle where the prince’s two elder brothers were to wait for him, the queen hid in a small crystal rock; all the facets of the crystal were adorned with gold and rubies, and the rock itself was entirely draped so that the queen could not be seen. It was carried by young men, slender and richly dressed. The prince remained in his carriage and noticed his brothers strolling arm in arm with princesses of remarkable beauty. Recognizing their younger brother, the princes immediately approached him and asked if he had brought a bride. He replied that he had been unlucky, having encountered only ugly women during his journey, but he had brought another rarity—a little White Cat. The brothers laughed at his naivety. – A cat, – they said, – are you afraid that mice will overrun our palace? The prince replied that, indeed, it might have been unwise to bring such a gift to his father. And with that, they all headed to the city.

The elder brothers, along with their princesses, sat in carriages of gold and azure stone, their horses adorned with plumes and aigrettes. Nothing more splendid than this cavalcade could be imagined. Our young prince followed his brothers, and behind him was carried the crystal rock, which all passersby admired.

The courtiers hastened to inform the king of the princes’ arrival.

– Have they brought beautiful ladies? – inquired the king.
– Such beautiful ones, that nothing could be more beautiful.

This answer disappointed the king. The elder princes hurried to present their astonishing princesses to their father. The king welcomed them very warmly and could not decide which one to favor.

Then he glanced at his youngest son and asked, "And have you come with nothing this time?" – "Your Majesty will see in this rock a little White Cat," replied the prince. – "She purrs so tenderly and has such soft paws that you will like her." The king smiled and approached the rock himself to open it. But as soon as he drew near, the queen pressed a spring, the rock split into pieces, and she appeared like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders in large curls, reaching down to the floor. On her head was a wreath of flowers, and her dress, made of light white gauze, was lined with pink taffeta. She curtsied deeply to the king, who could not contain his delight and exclaimed, "Here she is, the one who surpasses all and deserves my crown." – "Sire," she replied, "I have not come here to take away the kingdom you rule so worthily. Six kingdoms belong to me by birthright. Allow me to offer one of them to you and one to each of your sons. In return, I only ask for your friendship and the hand of this young prince in marriage. For us, the remaining three kingdoms will suffice."

Both the king and all his courtiers exclaimed with joy and astonishment for a long time. The wedding of the youngest prince was celebrated immediately, as were the weddings of his two brothers, so the entire court indulged in festivities and pleasures for many months. Then each went to rule their own kingdom. And the beautiful White Cat is still remembered in her kingdom, both for her kindness and generosity, as well as for her beauty and rare virtues.

The spell lost its power,
And in the Cat, our prince saw perfection –
A beauty, more desirable to him than all others,
Ready to share both toil and bliss with him.

When a wondrous gaze wishes to inspire love,
Resistance is not too fierce,
And gratitude amplifies these charms
A hundredfold.

Could one forget this mother, who, by her own whim...
Upon the Kitty a fate was called,
Wishing to taste the fruit of doom?
She sacrificed her child to the fairy.
A mother who possesses such a treasure,
Do not think her madness.

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The White Cat

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