vited thirteenth, burning to revenge herself, and
without greeting or respect, she cried with a loud voice,

"In the fifteenth year of her age the princess shall prick herself with
a spindle and shall fall down dead."

And without speaking one more word she turned away and left the hall.
Every one was terrified at her saying, when the twelfth came forward,
for she had not yet bestowed her gift, and though she could not do away
with the evil prophecy, yet she could soften it, so she said,

"The princess shall not die, but fall into a deep sleep for a hundred
years."

Now the king, being desirous of saving his child even from this
misfortune, gave commandment that all the spindles in his kingdom should
be burnt up.

The maiden grew up, adorned with all the gifts of the wise women; and
she was so lovely, modest, sweet, and kind and clever, that no one who
saw her could help loving her.

It happened one day, she being already fifteen years old, that the king
and queen rode abroad, and the maiden was left behind alone in the
castle. She wandered about into all the nooks and corners, and into all
the chambers and parlours, as the fancy took her, till at last she came
to an old tower. She climbed the narrow winding stair which led to a
little door, with a rusty key sticking out of the lock; she turned the
key, and the door opened, and there in the little room sat an old woman
with a spindle, diligently spinning her flax.

"Good day, mother," said the princess, "what are you doing?"

"I am spinning," answered the old woman, nodding her head.

"What thing is that that twists round so briskly?" asked the maiden, and
taking the spindle into her hand she began to spin; but no sooner had
she touched it than the evil prophecy was fulfilled, and she pricked her
finger with it. In that very moment she fell back upon the bed that
stood there, and lay in a deep sleep. And this sleep fell upon the whole
castle; the king and queen, who had returned and were in the great hall,
fell fast asleep, and with them the whole court. The horses in their
stalls, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons on the roof, the flies on the
wall, the very fire that flickered on the hearth, became still, and
slept like the rest; and the meat on the spit ceased roasting, and the
cook, who was going to pull the scullion's hair for some mistake he had
made, let him go, and went to sleep. And the wind ceased, and not a leaf
fell from the trees about the castle.