And the aristocrats think to themselves, What a foolish young man, how can he not see how lovely my daughter is! But their daughters aren’t lovely. They look like pom-poms, or perhaps muffs made from fine furs.

When the clock strikes midnight, two dozen colorful little birds enter the palace; “tweet tweet tweet,” they say sharply. No one has ever seen such a cloud of birds at this hour in these parts. The birds take Anna’s dress by the waist and lift her. It’s quite a sight to see: Anna rising, her golden dress floating around her. Far away some little bird sings (and fortunately almost no one hears it, but the prince does, though he doesn’t understand):

Oh, your perfume!

Pretty Anna-bella!

Oh, your perfume, your perfume!

The scent of your lovely legs!

No one delights in this scene more than the prince. Unsurprised, unafraid, he thinks it’s a new dance step and is filled with a rare joy. Which is why, when Anna disappears from sight (a speedy ascension), he is the first to notice that one of her golden slippers remains on the floor. It is small and smells like peaches. The rest of the crowd stands staring at the sky, wondering what has just happened; the prince picks up the dainty slipper and puts it in his pocket.

The prince’s suit has large, well-made pockets; they aren’t just for decoration. He uses them to carry small bottles of ointment that keeps babies away.

The next morning, the prince, full of vigor for lack of having spent the night in his usual amorous pursuits, goes from house to house with the slipper in his hands, searching for the young woman who has bewitched him. When he arrives at the home of the rich man who was once a woodsman, the eldest daughter tries the slipper on in her room. Her big toe is too long.

“Don’t worry,” her mother says. “Cut it off. What will it matter if you have a limp once you’re queen. Anna!” she shouts up the service stairs.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Will you stop calling me ma’am! Lower your voice. Quick, bring your father’s axe, you lazy girl, hurry!”

The stepmother’s daughter chops off her toe. She puts the slipper on and suffers in silence.

The prince follows her into his handsome copper-leaf carriage with its painted roof. When they pass the peach tree, the birds sing:

You’ve got yourself a trimmed hoof,

You saw the good but chose the bad.

The prince looks at the pretty young lady’s foot. The dainty golden slipper is soaked in blood. He knocks on the roof of the carriage and gives an order to return to the woodsman’s house.

“You tricked me. You offered me an unblemished foot and gave me a mutilated one. I don’t want this girl. You’ll pay the price!”