Part 45

The King, at this disagreeable proposition, thought he should lose all patience, but being in the power of this terrible person he suppressed his first movement, and seating himself, out of respect, some distance from the Fairy's bed, said, "Since you wish it, Madam, I will obey you. I came, not thinking you were asleep, to ask you to restore the Princess to her natural form immediately, and to declare, without that, I cannot follow you to the temple of the rose-tree." "Truly," replied the Fairy, much annoyed at this commencement, "this is a beautiful subject to disturb every one about; could not that have been deferred till to-morrow?" "No, Madam," replied the King, "and I am very sorry I did not urge it yesterday, without being under the necessity of waiting another day." "Well," said the Fairy, "what will you do for me in return, and what have I to expect from your gratitude?" "I have told you, Madam, the strongest friendship, and all that an affectionate heart could further give----" "Friendship," replied the Fairy; "no, no, King Coquerico, it is not at such a price that I dispense my favours--it must be of more value than that. Shall I tell you what it is? It is not worth while to wait till to-morrow to inform you. I cannot ask you for your love, I am convinced of that; you are incapable of feeling it for me; you have made me sufficiently understand that; but I will forgive you upon condition that to-morrow you will solemnly give me your faith."

The King, prepared as he had been for this event by Tigreline, could not quietly listen to her discourse, and find himself so near renouncing for ever a Princess whom he loved, without feeling it most cruelly. "If my heart were free," he replied, in a tone of voice changed by the excessive effort he made to suppress his fury, "I could offer you the one or the other; but, Madam, I have disposed of my heart beyond my own control, and I will not offer you my hand, the possession of which would make you miserable, for at every instant I should make you feel, in spite of myself, that, my heart being separated from it, I was not worthy the honour you conferred on me. The gratitude I owe you, therefore, obliges me absolutely to refuse you, at the peril of my life." "We shall see that to-morrow," replied Cornue. "Go and strengthen or change your noble resolutions; but remember that if you resist mine, it will not be your life that will answer to me for it. I shall know how to find, in spite of you, the sensitive place of a heart you assure me is so indifferent."

The King, maddened by rage and grief, departed, and returned to his own apartments, where he abandoned himself to the deepest despair. Twenty times he was about to plunge his sword in his heart, and sacrifice his life to the Princess; but thinking he might perhaps revenge her, or at least save her from the fury of the Fairy, he abandoned that frightful idea, and resolved upon going to the temple of the Rose-tree.

As soon as the morning appeared, the palace of the Fairy resounded with music and nuptial hymns; she sent to know if the King was ready, giving an order that they should attend to him as her husband. A pompous chariot was in the palace court. All the fairies from far and near were summoned to this ceremony; they arrived from every quarter. Tigreline only announced that she should be at the temple. At length the King appeared; his pale and thin face indicated that he was the victim of the sacrifice, rather than the person to whom it was to be offered. With all that he was as lovely as the day.

Cornue was attired as a Queen; all the skill in the world had been employed about her robes. She seated herself with the King in her chariot, and all the fairies followed according to their rank, riding upon eagles, dragons, tigers, and leopards. A dozen beautiful young fairies of the Court of Cornue, led in couples a dozen lions, upon which, during all the journey, the King had his eyes fixed, seeking to discover if the unfortunate Lionette were not amongst them. They set out amidst a flourish of drums and trumpets, and they arrived at the Sward of Eloquence: the flowers were already on the boundaries, and formed two ranks six feet high, between which the brilliant procession passed, amidst loud acclamations and joyous songs.

The temple was crowded. The most beautiful flowers had formed two thrones of exquisite taste, and the _coup-d'œil_ was enchanting, so well was everything arranged. The unfortunate Lionette was already in the temple, and the pleasure of seeing Tigreline there, whom she remembered directly, had relieved in a slight degree the deep grief she was in at being compelled to witness the happiness of her cruel rival. "I shall die, Madam," said she to the Fairy, "but at any rate let the King know, after my decease, that my affection has equalled his own, and that I pardon him a fault which fate has made him commit. I do not condemn him for his inconstancy." She wept so bitterly in finishing these words, and she was so overcome by the violence of her grief, that she did not see the King and the Fairy enter. Cornue first approached the Rose-tree. "I come," said she, "to redeem my word. Divinity of this place, you demanded of me the sacrifice of a fowl. I have too well understood your oracle; behold what you required, and I think I shall interpret your wishes by demanding of him, at the foot of your altar, the hand he is so reluctant to bestow on me; a sacrifice which is to him greater than that of his life." The Rose-tree drooped its leaves and blossoms, as if in approval of the words of the Fairy. Cornue then turning to the King, who had remained a few steps behind her, said, "Approach, my Lord, and fulfil the decree of fate." He was at this moment much more occupied with what he saw than with what was said to him; he had perceived Tigreline, and he no longer doubted that the lioness at her side was his divine Princess; he looked at her tenderly and sorrowfully, not daring, however, to approach her, for fear of displeasing Tigreline, who had made him a severe sign to prevent him.

Cornue, surprised at his silence, turned towards him, and saw him in this pleasant occupation; then placing on the altar the crown which she held in her hand, in order that the King might put it on her head, she approached him. "What are you about," said she; "is this a time for dreaming?" "I delay my reply, Madam," said the King, without much emotion, "till you shall render to the Princess of the Golden Island the form which you have so unjustly deprived her of; afterwards I will do what gratitude demands of me, and I will not deceive you." Cornue perceiving that it was not time to recede, especially as she saw Tigreline present, her superior in power, and that the day which she had chosen for this ceremony was precisely that on which the fairies are subject to death, was very cautious not to let the King know this, for fear that he should take advantage of those four-and-twenty hours to revenge himself for the cruelty which she had exercised on him and the Princess; yet, nevertheless, she was not willing to delay the fulfilment of her happiness; knowing, therefore, that it was impossible to deceive the King any longer, she turned to Tigreline, who led the lioness to the altar. "My Sister," said Cornue, taking off the necklace and presenting it to Tigreline, "I restore the Princess to you, and you can use your power to make her resume her proper form, but spare her the grief of seeing me crowned by the hand of her lover, and depart with her, as she can never be his."

Tigreline lost not a moment: in lieu of replying to Cornue, the good Fairy touched the lioness with her wand, and the Princess stood before them more beautiful and more amiable than ever. She was by the care of the Fairy clothed magnificently and in the finest taste: she had a dress of cloth of silver, covered with garlands of everlasting flower of _gris-de-lin_[46] colour; her beautiful light hair, adorned with diamonds and the same sort of flowers as those on her dress, fell in curls on her shoulders, and made her appear more beautiful than the day. The King was transported: he advanced towards her, and falling on one knee--"Will you permit, beautiful Princess," said he, "that the faith which I have plighted you should be taken from you, and that the unjust Fairy, who has made us so unhappy, should quietly enjoy a crown which should be yours?"

The Princess Lionette, during the time that her lover was speaking, kept her eyes tenderly fixed upon him, and by the tears which gently rolled down her cheeks let him see the effort which she made in giving him up. "I cannot," said she at length, "oppose fate; yes, my dear Prince, you must submit; I release you from your vows, live happy without me, if it be possible for you to do so; and as I must of necessity lose you, I quit this life without a regret, and am happy in dying at having been able to tell you once more without its being a crime that I love you." "Yes, you shall die," cried the furious Cornue; "I have borne enough insults, and that is another happiness which you have not counted amongst those you boast of at this fatal moment!" The King at these words rose from the feet of the Princess, who did not seem alarmed even at seeing her rival advance towards her with a poniard in her hand. He arrested the Fairy with one hand, and with the other drew his sword. "It is I who will perish," cried he, "and you cannot attempt the life of my Princess, which mine will answer for." "Oh, heavens!" cried the Fairy and Lionette at the same time. "Hold!" Tigreline then advanced towards Cornue; she had not spoken till that moment; she had allowed everything to proceed, and those to speak who were most anxious to do so. She raised her wand, and touching Cornue, "Receive," said she, "to-day, the reward of your misdeeds, and witness in your turn the happiness of these two lovers." At the words Cornue remained motionless, but her eyes shone with such terrible fury, that, not being able to find expression for it, her horn seemed on fire, and she foamed with rage. "And you, wise Rose-tree," continued Tigreline, "resume your form, and enjoy the pleasure of embracing your amiable daughter." She had not finished these words when the Rose-tree, bending itself a little, appeared in its true form.

It was that of a man about fifty years of age, nobly made, and magnificently attired; he had a long regal mantle, and a crown of gold, set with precious stones, on his head. Lionette resembled him so extremely that no one in the whole assembly could doubt she was his daughter. That beautiful Princess threw herself into his arms with so much natural delight, that all the company were affected by it. The good King received her with transports of joy, which would have been more prolonged if he had not perceived at his feet the young King of the Fortunate Islands, who embraced his knees. He quitted his daughter a moment to raise the handsome Coquerico. "I give you my daughter," said he to him, embracing him. "Receive her, my Lord, and live as happily as I have seen you miserable. I add my crown to this gift, and though I do not expect it will increase your happiness, judging by the vexations it has brought on me, still, such as it is, I give it to my daughter to present to you."

At this moment the King would have taken off his crown, but the young King cried, "No, sire, you shall not cease to reign: the charming, the tender Lionette fulfils all my wishes, and my crown is at her feet. Permit us to live with you, and let nothing separate us any more." Tigreline applauded this mark of generosity in King Coquerico; and taking Lionette by the hand, she presented her to him. He received her with transports of love more easily imagined than described. Then raising his crown, and placing one knee on the ground, he presented it to Lionette, who accepted it as she plighted her troth to him.

The Temple resounded with the nuptial hymn. It was only interrupted by Cornue, who uttered a piercing cry, and expired, it being her day of doom. Her death caused no extraordinary sensation. The young King and the Princess alone appeared affected by the result of her despair. Tigreline had her carried away, and the ceremony was concluded. King Coquerico then turning towards the King, his father-in-law, asked him if he wished to witness the coronation of the Queen Lionette, or if he would prefer waiting where he was for some days. "And I," said Lionette, "I would entreat a favour of the kind Tigreline, and of my dear husband, if I dare speak at this moment." "My dear Princess," replied the King, tenderly, "what do you fear?" "I would, then," said the Princess, "that, disembarrassed of the cares of government, we could live here always, and that, content with my happiness, I might be occupied with nothing but the pleasure of enjoying it. It is here that I have regained what is to me most valuable. What signifies to me the rest of the world if I live with these two persons; and if you, Madam," added she, addressing the Fairy, "deign to come and see me, and restore to me my two unfortunate guardians?" "I consent," said the two Kings at once. "Yes, my daughter," said the Fairy in her turn, "I approve of these noble sentiments, and you shall live here as a Queen, but without feeling the inconvenience of it. You shall both also enjoy the gift of fairydom. I bestow it on you."

Then touching the hedges that formed the walls of the temple, the whole structure was changed into a palace of emeralds so brilliant and so magnificent, that never was anything seen to equal it. The flowers became living and speaking persons, having as the sole mark of their transformation a flower of their name on the head. The greensward became a magnificent garden: on one side appeared a vast forest, at one end of which the Fairy caused to be built a little palace of rose-colour and white marble; and at the other, one of rock crystal, in which she had the kindness to place the fine model of the universe, which had been the delight of the King in his youth. The Princess was enchanted. "It is for me," said the King, "an inestimable gift--it will recall to me without ceasing the pleasure I have enjoyed in exploring it in search of my dear Princess." "And I," said she, "will hold it dear, because it has taught you that I was occupied with your memory."

The Fairy was charmed to see them so happy, with a degree of love so little known in our time or even in that at which they lived. "Love each other always thus, my children," said she, embracing them; "I can give you nothing preferable to that blessing; it is the only real happiness." She then made them observe that each palace had its separate gardens, its cascades, fountains, and charming flower-beds. On the other side of the garden was a large and flowing river, upon which were a thousand superb gondolas, silver and _gris-de-lin_, which wound round towards a castle built entirely of flowers, the marvellous variety of which had an admirable effect, and crowning the summit of a mountain with terraces laid out as gardens, descending to the brink of the river, and which served as a country house to the Palace of Emeralds. "I give you all this," said Tigreline, embracing Lionette; "live here, my children, millions of years; your subjects will love you, and never betray you. If you wish for more, a touch of this wand," said she, giving hers to Lionette, "will change all the flowers into speaking and rational beings, and they will become flowers again at your will."

The King and Lionette threw themselves at the feet of the Fairy, and thanked her heartily. She raised them, and again embraced them. "Wave your wand," said she to the Princess, "that your guardians may have the pleasure of being recalled by yourself." The beautiful Lionette quickly made this first trial of her power; the good people appeared immediately. She ran to embrace them, but they feared to receive her caresses; the beautiful Queen, however, pressed them to her heart so affectionately that they at length returned her embraces with a tenderness which drew tears from all beholders. The Queen seeing them so aged and decrepit, turned her beautiful eyes, full of tears, on the Fairy, who comprehended what she suffered. "I like to see so much sensibility, madam," said Tigreline; "use your power, you cannot employ it better than in the way you at present desire." She had not finished these words, when the old man and his wife appeared to be,--he a man of twenty years, and the old woman a girl of eighteen. They threw themselves at the feet of the Fairy, and kissed the hands of the Queen, who, delighted to see them so young and amiable, embraced the Fairy to thank her for this great favour.

The good King then addressed his daughter, who turned her eyes affectionately on him, "Do not confer on me the same gift, my dear daughter; I do not wish to possess second youth. I see you happy, that is the only thing which would affect me; I shall never be sensible of greater joy; leave to the gods the disposal of my days." "It is for me," said the Fairy, "to render them happy; you shall live, Sire, till you are sufficiently tired of life to wish to lose it. Adieu; my affairs compel me now to leave you, but I shall speedily see you again."

The Queen conducted the Fairy to her car, the two Kings handed her into it, after which they returned to the Palace, where, charmed with each other's society, they passed their golden days, more happy than they had ever been miserable. They lived millions of years, and the King and Queen presented the world with fairies and beneficent genii, who are at this moment actually occupied in promoting the happiness of the universe.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] See note, page 360.

[42] The "Académie Française," for which Cardinal Richelieu obtained letters patent, January, 1635. The number of members was fixed at forty, and they were called "_les immortels_."

[43] This opera, founded on the well-known episode in Tasso's _Gerusaleme Liberata_, and produced at Paris in 1686, is considered the _chef-d'œuvre_ of Quinault.

[44] The necklace must also have preserved the Queen from the tigers, or (according to the Author, page 420) one with so wicked an object for her visit must have fallen their prey.

[45] The crowing of a cock was supposed by the ancients to terrify the lion exceedingly. This idea is alluded to in Mademoiselle D'Aulnoy's story--"The Pigeon and the Dove."

[46] _Gris-de-lin_, Englished into Gridelin, was an exceedingly fashionable colour, both in France and England, at this period. It is variously described, but appears to have been a reddish grey--"gris tirant sur le rouge"--not unlike lilac.

MADAME DE BEAUMONT.

THE PRINCE DÉSIR

and

THE PRINCESS MIGNONE.

There was once upon a time a King who passionately loved a Princess, but she could not be married because she was enchanted. He went in search of a Fairy to learn what he should do to be loved by this Princess. The Fairy said to him, "You know that the Princess has a large cat, of which she is very fond. She is destined to marry the man who shall be sufficiently adroit to tread on the tail of her cat." The King said to himself, "That will not be very difficult." So he quitted the Fairy, determined to crush the tail of the cat rather than fail to tread on it. He ran to the palace of his mistress, where Minon came towards him, putting up his back, as he was accustomed to do; the King raised his foot, but when he thought he was certain to set it on the cat's tail, Minon turned round so quickly that his Majesty trod on nothing but the floor. He tried for eight days to step on this fatal tail, but it appeared to be full of quicksilver, so continually was it in motion. At length the King had the good fortune to surprise Minon whilst he was sleeping, and stamped upon his tail with all his force. Minon awoke, squalling horribly. Then suddenly he took the form of a great man, and regarding the Prince with eyes full of anger, he said to him, "Thou shalt wed the Princess, because thou hast destroyed the enchantment which prevented thee from doing so, but I will be avenged. Thou shalt have a son who shall be always unhappy until the moment when he shall discover that he has too long a nose, and if thou darest to divulge the threat I have uttered, thou shalt die immediately." Although the King was very frightened at the sight of this great man, who was an enchanter, he could not help laughing at this threat. "If my son has too long a nose," said he to himself, "unless he be either blind or without arms, he can always see it or feel it."

The Enchanter having disappeared, the King sought the Princess, who consented to marry him; but his happiness was of brief duration, for he died at the end of eight months. A month afterwards the Queen brought into the world a little prince, whom they named Désir. He had large blue eyes, the most beautiful in the world, and a pretty little mouth, but his nose was so big that it covered half his face. The Queen was inconsolable when she saw this great nose; but the ladies who were with her told her that the nose was not so large as it appeared to her: that it was a Roman nose, and that she might learn from history that all heroes had large noses. The Queen, who passionately loved her son, was charmed at this discourse, and from constantly looking at Désir his nose did not appear so large to her as at first. The Prince was brought up with care, and as soon as he could speak they told all sorts of shocking stories before him about people with short noses. They allowed no one to come near him but those whose noses in some degree resembled his own, and the courtiers, to pay their court to the Queen and her son, pulled the noses of their little children several times in the day to make them longer; but it was no use pulling, for they appeared snub-nosed by the side of Prince Désir. As soon as he could understand it they taught him history, and when they spoke of any great prince or beautiful princess they always said they had long noses. All his apartments were full of portraits of persons with large noses, and Désir became so accustomed to regard the length of the nose as a beauty, that he would not for a crown have had his in the least diminished.

When he was twenty years of age, and they thought of marrying him, they presented him with the portraits of several princesses. He was enchanted with that of Mignone. She was the daughter of a great King, and heiress to several kingdoms; but Désir thought nothing of that, so much was he engrossed by her beauty. This Princess, whom he found so charming, had, however, a little turned-up nose, which had the prettiest effect in the world on her face, but which threw the courtiers into the utmost embarrassment. They had acquired the habit of ridiculing little noses, and they could not restrain a smile at that of the Princess, but Désir would allow no raillery on this subject, and he banished from his court two courtiers who had dared to disparage the nose of Mignone. The others, profiting by this example, corrected themselves, and there was one who said to the Prince, that in truth a man could not be handsome without a large nose, but that female beauty was altogether different, and that a scholar who spoke Greek had told him that he had read, in an old Greek manuscript, that the beautiful Cleopatra had the tip of her nose turned up.