Briar Rose 11
There was once a beautiful young princess, relates the fairy, who, for reasons of mischief, her own or someone else's, got something stuck under her fingernail, a thorn perhaps, and fell asleep for a hundred years. When she woke up--What was her name? What? This princess: What was her name? Oh, I don't know, my child. Some called her Beauty, I think. That's it, Sleeping Beauty. Have I heard this story before? Stop interrupting. When she woke up--- How did she wake up? Did a prince kiss her? Ah. No. Well, not then. There were little babies crawling all over her when she came to. One of them, searching for her nipple, had found her finger instead and--Babies? Yes, it seemed that this Sleeping Beauty had been visited by any number of princes over the years, she was a kind of wayside chapel for royal hunting parties, as you might say, and so there were naturally all these babies. The one that sucked the thorn out died, of course, and just as well because in truth she had more of the demanding little creatures than she and all the fairies who were helping her could manage. She--Why were they all so little if she'd been asleep a hundred years? Many of them must have grown old and died meanwhile, there must have been old dead bodies lying around. Well, maybe it wasn't exactly a hundred years, Rose, who's to say, maybe it was more like a long winter, what's time to a dreamer, after all? Anyway, when this baby sucked the thorn out, Beauty woke up and found she suddenly had this big family to raise, so when the princes dropped by again for the usual, she made what arrangements were necessary and accommodated them all as best she could, given their modest tastes--I mean, she really didn't have to do anything, did she?--and they all became good friends. And everyone lived happily ever after--? Well, they might have if it hadn't have been for the jealous wives. The princes were married--?! Of course, what did you expect, my child? And their wives, needless to say, were fit to be tied. Finally, one day when the princes had all cantered off to war for the summer as princes do, these wives threw a big party at Beauty's place and cooked up all her children in a hundred different dishes, including a kind of hash, sauced with shredded onions, stewed in butter until golden, with wine, salt, pepper, rosemary, and a little mustard added, which they particularly enjoyed. As for Beauty, that little piece of barnyard offal, as they called her, they decided to slit her throat and boil her in a kind of toad-and-viper soup. Not very nice, but they were so jealous of her they didn't even want her to taste good. Besides, their stomachs were full, the soup would be used to feed the poor. And that's the end of the story? Well, almost. Beauty had been given a lot of pretty presents by her princes, as you can imagine, for they all loved her very much, and they included some lovely gowns in the latest fashion, stitched with gold and silver thread and trimmed with precious jewels, which the wives now fought over, screeching and biting and clawing in the royal manner. They raised such a din that even their princes, far away at war--But it's terrible! She would have been better off not waking up at all! Well. Yes. I suppose that's true, my dear.