Riquet with the TuftLeeftijdsaangepaste versie

Once upon a time, a queen gave birth to a son who was so hideously ugly that for a long time people argued whether he was even human. A fairy who was present at his birth said that despite this, he would be very lovable, because he would have a great deal of wit.

She even added that, by virtue of a gift she had just given him, he would be able to bestow as much wit as he pleased on the person he loved most. This comforted the poor queen a little, for she was terribly upset at having brought such an ugly child into the world.

As soon as the little boy began to talk, he said a thousand clever things, and there was something so charming in everything he did that everyone loved him. I forgot to mention that he was born with a little tuft of hair on his head, which is why they called him Riquet with the Tuft—Riquet being the family name.

Seven or eight years later, the queen of a neighboring kingdom gave birth to twin daughters. The firstborn was beautiful beyond compare, and the queen was so overjoyed that those present were afraid her excessive happiness might harm her.

The same fairy who had been at the birth of little Riquet with the Tuft was also there, and to calm the queen's joy, she declared that this little princess would have no wit at all—she would be as stupid as she was pretty.

This mortified the queen greatly, but a few moments later she felt even worse, for the second daughter she gave birth to was very ugly.

"Do not grieve so much, madam," said the fairy. "Your daughter shall have such a great amount of wit that her lack of beauty will hardly be noticed."

"God grant it," replied the queen. "But is there no way to make the eldest, who is so pretty, have at least a little wit?"

"I can do nothing for her regarding wit," answered the fairy, "but I can do everything for beauty. And because I would do anything for your satisfaction, I give her the gift that she will have the power to make handsome the person who pleases her most."

As the princesses grew up, their perfections grew with them. Everyone talked about the beauty of the eldest and the wit of the youngest. But their defects also increased with age. The youngest grew uglier and uglier, and the eldest became more and more stupid every day.

She either answered nothing when spoken to, or said something very silly. She was so clumsy that she could not place four pieces of china on the mantelpiece without breaking one, nor drink a glass of water without spilling half on her clothes.

Though beauty is a great advantage in young people, the youngest sister almost always outshone the eldest in company. People would first go to the beauty to look and admire, but soon they would turn to the wit to hear a thousand entertaining and pleasant remarks.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the eldest would be left all alone while the whole crowd gathered around the youngest. The eldest, dull as she was, could not help noticing, and she would have given all her beauty for half her sister's wit.

The queen, wise as she was, could not help reproaching her several times, which almost made the poor princess die of grief.

One day, as she went into the woods to bewail her misfortune, she saw a little man coming toward her. He was very ugly but most magnificently dressed. This was the young Prince Riquet with the Tuft. He had fallen in love with her after seeing her portrait—many of which had been sent all over the world—and had left his father's kingdom to have the pleasure of seeing and talking with her.

Overjoyed to find her alone, he greeted her with the utmost politeness and respect. After paying his compliments, he noticed she was very sad and said to her:

"I cannot understand, madam, how a person as beautiful as you can be as sorrowful as you seem. Though I have seen countless exquisitely charming ladies, I can honestly say I have never seen anyone whose beauty comes close to yours."

"You are kind to say so," answered the princess, and then she stopped.

"Beauty," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "is such a great advantage that it should make up for everything else. Since you possess this treasure, I see nothing that could possibly afflict you so much."

"I would much rather," cried the princess, "be as ugly as you are and have wit, than have the beauty I possess and be so stupid."

"Nothing shows that we have wit more than believing we have none," he returned. "And it is the nature of that excellent quality that the more people have of it, the more they think they lack it."

"I do not know about that," said the princess, "but I know very well that I am very senseless, and that is the cause of the vexation that is killing me."

"If that is all that troubles you, madam, I can easily put an end to your affliction."

"And how will you do that?" cried the princess.

"I have the power, madam," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "to give as much wit as can be had to the person I love best. And since you, madam, are that very person, it will be your fault alone if you do not have as great a share of it as anyone living—provided you will agree to marry me."

The princess was utterly astonished and could not answer a word.

"I see," Riquet went on, "that this proposal makes you uneasy, and I do not wonder. But I will give you a whole year to think it over."

The princess had so little wit, and at the same time such a great longing to have some, that she thought that year would never end. So she accepted the proposal. No sooner had she promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him on that day twelve months than she found herself completely changed.

She could speak with incredible ease, in a polite, easy, and natural manner. At once she began a very lively conversation with Riquet with the Tuft, and she chattered so much that Riquet with the Tuft believed he had given her more wit than he had kept for himself.

When she returned to the palace, the whole court was amazed at the sudden and extraordinary change. Now they heard from her as much sensible talk and as many witty remarks as they had heard stupid and silly nonsense before. The whole court was overjoyed beyond imagination.

Only her younger sister was displeased, because she no longer had the advantage in wit, and now seemed a plain, homely girl in comparison. The king took his eldest daughter's advice, and sometimes even held council in her apartment.

News of the change spread everywhere, and all the young princes of neighboring kingdoms tried to win her favor. Almost all of them asked for her hand in marriage, but she found that none of them had enough wit for her. She listened to them but would not commit to any.

Eventually, one prince came along who was so powerful, rich, witty, and handsome that she could not help liking him. Her father noticed this and told her she was free to choose her husband and could announce her decision. But the more wit one has, the harder it is to make a firm decision in such matters. So she thanked her father and asked for time to consider.

She happened to go for a walk in the same wood where she had met Riquet with the Tuft, so that she could think more clearly about what to do. As she walked deep in thought, she heard a confused noise under her feet, as if many people were bustling about.

Listening more closely, she heard one say, "Bring me that pot!" another, "Give me that kettle!" and a third, "Put some wood on the fire!" At the same time the ground opened, and she seemed to see below her feet a great kitchen full of cooks, scullions, and all sorts of servants needed for a magnificent feast.

A company of roasters, twenty or thirty of them, came out and placed themselves in a fine forest avenue around a very long table, with larding pins in their hands and skewers in their caps. They began to work, keeping time to a harmonious song.

The princess, astonished, asked who they were working for.

"For Prince Riquet with the Tuft," said the chief, "who is to be married tomorrow."

The princess was more surprised than ever. She remembered that it was exactly a year ago that she had promised to marry Riquet with the Tuft, and she nearly fainted. The reason she had forgotten was that when she made the promise, she had been very silly, and after receiving the great wit the prince had given her, she had completely forgotten her former stupidity. She continued walking, but had not taken thirty steps before Riquet with the Tuft appeared before her, dressed bravely and magnificently, like a prince about to be married.

"You see, madam," he said, "I am very exact in keeping my word. I have no doubt that you have come to keep yours and to make me, by giving me your hand, the happiest of men."

"I must freely confess," answered the princess, "that I have not yet made a decision on this matter, and I believe I will never make the one you desire."

"You astonish me, madam," said Riquet with the Tuft.

"I believe it," said the princess. "Surely, if I were dealing with a clown or a man of no wit, I would be very much at a loss. He would say to me, 'A princess always keeps her word, and you must marry me because you promised.' But since I am speaking to the man in the world who has the greatest sense and judgment, I am sure he will listen to reason.

You know that when I was a fool, I could not bring myself to marry you. Why would you want me, now that I have so much judgment—which you gave me—and that makes me even more difficult than before, to make a decision that I could not make then?

If you truly intended to make me your wife, you did wrong to take away my dull simplicity and make me see things more clearly than I did."

"If a man with no wit would be entitled to reproach you for breaking your word," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "why will you not let me do the same in a matter that concerns all the happiness of my life? Is it fair that people of wit should be worse off than those without? Can you pretend that, you who have so much wit and so earnestly desired it? But let us come to the point. Setting aside my ugliness and deformity, is there anything about me that displeases you? Are you dissatisfied with my birth, my wit, my humor, or my manners?"

"Not at all," answered the princess. "I love and respect you in all those respects."

"If so," said Riquet with the Tuft, "I am likely to be happy, because it is in your power to make me the most lovable of men."

"How can that be?" said the princess.

"It will happen," said Riquet with the Tuft, "if you love me enough to wish it so. And so that you may have no doubt, madam, know that the same fairy who gave me the gift of making the person I love extremely witty also gave you the gift of making the person you love and wish to favor extremely handsome."

"If that is so," said the princess, "I wish with all my heart that you may be the most lovable prince in the world, and I bestow it on you as much as I can."

No sooner had the princess spoken these words than Riquet with the Tuft appeared to her as the finest prince on earth, the handsomest and most amiable man she had ever seen. Some say it was not the fairy's enchantment that caused this change, but love alone.

They say that the princess, having reflected on her lover's perseverance, discretion, and all the good qualities of his mind—his wit and judgment—no longer saw the deformity of his body or the ugliness of his face. His hump seemed to her merely the homely air of a man with a broad back.

Whereas before she had seen him limp horribly, she now found it nothing more than a certain sidling air that charmed her. They say further that his squinting eyes seemed all the more bright and sparkling, and that their irregularity seemed to her a sign of a violent excess of love.

In short, his great red nose had, in her opinion, something martial and heroic about it.

However it came about, the princess immediately promised to marry him, provided he obtained her father's consent. The king, upon learning that his daughter had great esteem for Riquet with the Tuft, whom he otherwise knew as a very wise and judicious prince, received him as his son-in-law with pleasure. The next morning their wedding was celebrated, just as Riquet with the Tuft had foreseen and ordered long before.