PART ONE

See, now they vanish,

The faces and places, with the self  which as it could, loved them,

to become renewed, transfigured in another pattern.

From ‘Little Gidding’ by T. S.Eliot

         Once a rich and prosperous merchant fell on hard times when the ship in which he had invested his fortune was lost at sea. All he had left to him in the whole world were his three motherless daughters. They lived in an old cottage, which lay deep in the countryside, far from the luxuries and comforts of city life that the two eldest daughters had so enjoyed. These two daughters could not forgive their father for the loss of his fortune. They filled his days with complaints of the housework they were now obliged to help with, for they were so poor they could not afford the luxury of a servant.  If it hadn’t been for the youngest daughter the family may not have survived. Now although the merchant loved all his daughters, he could not help loving this daughter the best. As a baby her mother had named her Beauty. Not only was she beautiful, but she was loving and kind. She was the one who planted vegetables in the garden, kept hens for eggs, milked the goat every day and looked after the house. The merchant insisted that the two elder sisters should share the burden of these tasks, but they were always full of selfish excuses and somehow they managed to avoid the most unpleasant and tiring jobs.

The days slipped by like beads dropping from a broken necklace until one day the merchant received a message from the city informing him that his ship had not been lost at sea but had returned safely home.

“My missing ship has returned to port with a cargo of the finest jewels, silks and spices,” the merchant announced to his daughters, “and I am once again a rich man.” On hearing the news the two eldest daughters fussed and fawned over their father as he hastily made his preparations for a journey to the city that this change in fortune now demanded. Their faces were suddenly full of the smiles they had denied him for many days. During their endless speeches about how they would spend their new fortune Beauty filled his bag with food for his journey and saddled his horse. As he climbed up into the saddle he smiled down at his daughters.

“I will return as soon as my business allows, but I will not return empty handed. Tell me my daughters what gift can I bring back for each of you?”

“I want a ruby necklace, and each ruby must be as big as an egg!” said the eldest daughter.

“I want a diamond ring - for each of my fingers!” said the second daughter.

“And what gift can I bring you back my Beauty,” said the merchant.

“I don’t need any other gift than to know that you have returned safely home,” replied Beauty.

Her sisters stared at her with sneering faces “You don’t want a present! Are you mad?”

“I must bring you something.”

“Then bring me a rose.”

“Just a rose, nothing else?"

“Just a rose.”

The merchant bid his daughters farewell then galloped off in the direction of the city leaving his daughters awaiting his return.

Oh with what pleasure did the Merchant enter the city! He had not realised how much he had missed the busy hustle and bustle of city life. He quickly completed his business concerning the lost ship. Assured of his wealth he walked out into the city. His first stop was a tailor’s shop where he bought himself a suit made from the finest silk brocade. Once he was suitably attired he made his way to the finest jewellers in the city, where he had soon chosen the ruby necklace and the diamond rings for his eldest daughters. Finally he went to look for a rose for Beauty - but he searched in vain, for there was not a single rose for sale in the whole of the city.

“Perhaps I will see one as I ride home tomorrow, ”thought the merchant to himself, “At least it will be fresh.”

The next morning the merchant started back for home. He was in high spirits as he rode out of the city gates and he spent a pleasant morning riding along making plans for the future. Such sweet dreams …  He must have drowsed off for he suddenly woke with a start. Above him the pale blue sky had disappeared behind dark storm clouds. Lightning slashed across the sky making giant silver rips in the blackening fabric of the air. The rain fell in great giant drops and despite his wrapping his thick cloak around himself his new silk brocade suit was soon soaking wet. Now along the side of the road was a forest, and the merchant decided to shelter there until the storm had passed over.

With the rain half blinding him the merchant found a track that led deep into the forest. Immediately the noise of the falling rain became distant and subdued. The giant trees towered far above him. Their branches sprang upwards forming a great vast arched roof high above him; every few seconds it was illuminated by great white burning flashes of lightning. Grateful that he and his horse had escaped the storm the merchant followed the small track ever inwards. Finally the merchant pulled up his horse.

“I must keep my head and not lose myself in this great labyrinth of trees or I will wander around for hours trying to find my way out.”

He decided to follow the track back to the entrance of the forest, but as he pulled on the reins of his horse to turn its head a thin silver streak of lightning struck a branch directly above his head. His horse reared in terror and flung itself at full gallop through the trees. All the merchant could do to save him self being thrown from his terrified horse was to cling tightly to its mane. It seemed to the merchant that this wild flight through the trees would never end, but at last he was able to pull up his horse. Knowing he was lost he decided to the follow the path on which he was standing. Perhaps he would find a small cottage where he could find shelter for the night. Exhausted by fear his horse could barely walk, so the merchant climbed down from its back and slowly started to lead it along the path. Before long the merchant noticed that the path was growing wider and less stony. The trees on either side of the path were getting thinner-in fact they looked as if they had been carefully planted at regular intervals. Suddenly the merchant’s heart skipped a beat. He was no longer in the middle of the forest, but standing in a wide avenue. The avenue ended in a pair of elaborately fashioned gates and beyond the gates was a castle.

Still leading his horse the merchant hurried towards the gates. As he approached, the gates silently swung open allowing the merchant to enter the castle grounds. The merchant looked around expecting to see the gatekeeper, but there was nobody there. Slightly puzzled the merchant walked up to the castle. A door stood open and inside he could see a lamp, its light flickering in welcome. Leaving his horse, he went and knocked on the door and called in to the silent castle,

“Is any one there?”

There was no reply. The merchant stepped inside. He found himself in a hall. Leading off from the hall he saw doors and passages too numerous to count. He called out again” Is anyone there?” Again there was no reply. The merchant was becoming more and more puzzled. Where was the master of this castle? Where were the servants? His curiosity growing, he started to look around. One of the doors was slightly open. He looked round the door and let out a gasp of surprise. The room was brilliantly lit with candles and was splendidly furnished. A fire was burning in the grate sending out such a heat that the merchant suddenly realised how cold and wet he was. In the very centre of the room was a table sumptuously laden with golden dishes of the most wonderful food. The table was set for one person and there was one chair placed as to invite the person who had just entered the room to sit down.

The merchant could only stare in wonder. “It is as if someone knew I was coming…I wonder if all this is for me?” He was just about to sit down when he suddenly remembered that he had left his horse outside and that it too needed food and shelter. But when he went to find his horse he found that it had vanished. Suddenly he heard a horse’s whinny and following the sound he found himself in the stables. There was his horse already groomed and with a good supply of oats.

The merchant made his way back to the room where his own meal awaited him. He could only wonder why his host chose to hide himself, “Hopefully in the morning I will have an opportunity to thank my host for such hospitality.”

The meal was the most delicious the merchant had ever eaten in his life and after wards he was feeling very sleepy. He was just about to settle down in his chair by the fire when he noticed another door that was slightly open. The merchant went through the door and found himself in a bedroom. Lying on the freshly made bed was a nightshirt. Here was hospitality indeed. Within five minutes the merchant was fast asleep.

The merchant woke the following morning to see sunshine streaming in through the window. On the chair next to his bed lay his silk brocade suit. It had been cleaned and pressed. The merchant quickly got out of bed and washed and dressed himself. On entering the room where he had dined the night before he saw the table set with food for his breakfast.

“Surely my host will join me soon,” thought the merchant. But he waited in vain and in the end he ate his breakfast alone, a single solitary figure eating from a golden bowl. He then left the room and went back out into the hall where he called out again and again, “Is anybody there?” The echo of his voice ran along the empty passages and fell into silence.

“Where is my host who is happy to feed and shelter me, but not to meet me? I would like to have thanked him for his hospitality. It will be a strange tale to tell my daughters.”

The thought of his daughters suddenly made him anxious to be gone and he hurried out of the castle to find his horse. He was crossing the courtyard when he caught the scent of perfume on the air. Roses! And he still did not have a rose for Beauty. There must be a rose garden in the castle grounds. Why he would go and pick one for his daughter. Surely after such generosity the owner of the castle would not mind if he took just one rose?

The rose garden lay only a short distance from the castle. The scent of the flowers lay heavy in the air as the merchant stepped into the garden itself. The flowers grew in such rich profusion on every stem, that the merchant hardly knew which rose to choose. Which rose for Beauty? Would she like the pink rose of innocence? As he looked at the pink roses he remembered Beauty lying in her mother’s arms as a tiny baby. Should he choose the yellow rose of joy? As he saw the yellow roses he recalled Beauty as young girl playing with her mother watching over her. Then there was the white rose - but the white rose was the rose of sorrow and he remembered too clearly his daughter so full of grief and loss when her mother died! No, he could not give her the rose of sorrow. He wandered on through the garden following the slowly spiralling path round until he came to the very centre of the garden, which lay in silence.

Then suddenly he saw it - a rose bursting into bloom. Its soft red petals were opening in welcome. He must have this flower and no other for his daughter. Surely no one would miss just one flower - one from so many. The merchant looked around. There was no one to see. He walked slowly up to the rose. Its heavy scent filled and intoxicated him. Still he stopped and waited. Its beauty filled him with wonder, for in the centre of this perfect flower, cradled in the golden crown that hides in the heart of every rose there lay, like a silent tear, a drop of dew.

But who could deny him one single rose? He picked the rose. There it lay in his hand.

“Who dares to steal my roses?”

The terrible cry severed the air. The merchant slowly turned around. Fear gripped him and he fell to the ground - before him stood a monstrous beast. It sprang forward and pulled the merchant to his feet. The great curves of claw tore at the silk brocade of the merchant’s suit. The Beast was too terrible to look at. His dark eyes flashed in anger and his voice was shaking with rage.

“Is this how you thank me for my hospitality - taking what is not yours to take? You are nothing but a common thief and you deserve to die."

The merchant fell to his knees, “I will gladly pay you for the rose - only spare my life.”

He pulled out of his pocket the ruby necklace and the diamond rings and offered them to the Beast. “I do not want your worthless trinkets,” the Beast roared in fury and he raised his arm as if to strike the merchant.

“Please,” begged the merchant, “I beg you to forgive me. I did not mean any harm. I only wanted the rose for my youngest daughter.”

The Beast dropped his arm. He turned away from the merchant and for many minutes he stood in silence. Finally he turned and faced the merchant.

“I will spare your life, but in return, you will give to me the first thing that greets you when you return home.”

The merchant was quick to agree. He could hardly believe his luck. It was always one of his dogs that was first to run up and greet him. He scrambled to his feet and was making his way out of the garden when he felt the Beast’s heavy clawed hand on his shoulder.

“Remember, you will give to me the first thing that greets you when you return home. You must return before the end of the week. If you fail I will find you and kill you.”

“I understand - just let me go!” said the merchant. He half ran, half stumbled to the stable, and climbed on to his horse. They fled away from the castle into the quiet safety of the forest.

Before long he was out of the forest and riding along the road that would lead him home. Everything seemed so normal, yet as he rode along a feeling of dread came over him. The Beast’s words started to echo in his mind, “Remember, you will give to me the first thing that greets you when you return home.” What if it wasn’t one of the dogs that ran out to greet him first? What if a loving daughter..?…He could not bear to think such a thing.

The merchant journeyed on; soon he was riding through well-known countryside. He was nearly home. When he rounded the bend in the road he would be able to see his cottage. He started to call out the names of his dogs, willing them to come running along the road. But no dogs came.

He saw her smiling face first. She jumped up from where she had been sitting at the roadside, awaiting his return and ran towards him - Beauty!

Beauty saw the colour drain from her father’s face. “Father, what's the matter? Are you ill? The journey has been too much for you. Come let me help you.” She took the reins from her father’s hands and led the horse back to the cottage.

When he was safe in side his cottage the merchant told his daughters everything that had happened.

“Well,” said the eldest daughter, “It’s obvious. We'll just send one of the dogs. That monster will never know.”

“He will know.”

“He will never find us if we move back to the city,” said the second daughter.

“He would find me wherever I went.”

Beauty sat listening quietly. “There is only one way to save our father’s life. I was the first to greet our father on his return; there fore I must go to the Beast’s castle.”

“I can not let you sacrifice your self for me. I forbid you to go. ”

“I am not afraid -and you were trying to find a rose for me”.

At last Beauty persuaded her father to take her to the Beast. Her sisters said that if she was foolish enough to go and perhaps be eaten by a Beast that was her business. They could only think about their own selfish concerns. If Beauty were going they would have to find some servants. How fortunate they were rich again.              

Beauty and her father stood in front of the gates; their journey together was over. So many things to say and so much that could never be put in to words. Slowly and silently the gates opened. The merchant led his daughter up to the castle. They stood waiting together by the door. The Beast was nowhere to be seen. As on the previous visit, the door to the castle was open. Cautiously the merchant peered round the door. He half expected the Beast to come leaping out of a hidden trap door. The hall was empty. They made their way to the room where the merchant had dined before. This time there were two places set at the table.

"At least the Beast does not intend us to starve”, said Beauty, “Come father, you have a long journey a head of you. You must eat something.” Beauty’s voice was light, but her father knew the effort it cost her.

“Beauty, I cannot leave you here. Let me pay the price for my stupidity.” But nothing the merchant said could persuade Beauty to change her mind and she was so anxious for his well being that he forced himself to eat. Their meal over, they both knew that it was time for the merchant to go.

The merchant held his daughter close to him and kissed her farewell. He hurried from the room. She heard him call out in anger and grief,

“I have brought you the first thing that greeted me when I returned home as I promised I would, for I am a man of honour. But if you so much as harm one hair on her sweet head, I vow I will never rest until I have destroyed you.”

Beauty heard the sound of her father’s horse galloping away. Then there was silence. She was alone.