That I adored thee yesterday I swore
An hundred times; and broken ne'er can be
The vows I uttered from my fond heart's core;
For Love himself dictated them to me,
And beauty such as thine ensureth constancy.
After what the Fairy had ordained, the Princess comprehended that she
ought to receive these attentions from her new admirer as those of a
Prince who was shortly to be her husband.
She received the little Cupids very graciously, and they had scarcely
taken their departure, when twenty-four dwarfs, fancifully, but
magnificently attired, appeared, bearing other presents. They consisted
of dresses made entirely of feathers; but the colours, the work, and
the jewels with which they were ornamented were so beautiful, that the
Princess admitted she had never seen anything so elegant.
She chose a rose-coloured dress to wear that day. Her head-dress
was composed of plumes of the same colour. She appeared so charming
with these new ornaments, that the Prince of the Peaceful Island,
who came to see her as soon as she was dressed, felt his passion for
her redoubled. All the Court hastened to admire the Princess. In the
evening the Prince proposed to the fair Hebe to descend into the
palace gardens, which were admirably laid out.
During the promenade, the Prince informed Hebe that the Fairy had, for
the last four years, led him to expect that Princess's arrival in the
Peaceful Island; "but shortly after that period," added the Prince, "on
my pressing her to fulfil her promise, she appeared distressed, and
said to me, 'The Princess Hebe is destined by her father to another;
but if my science does not deceive me, she will not marry the Prince
who has been chosen for her husband. I will let you know the issue.'
Some months afterwards the Fairy returned to the island. 'Fate favours
you,' said she to me: 'the Prince who was to have married Hebe will
not be her husband, and in a short time you will behold here the most
beautiful Princess in the world.'"
"It is true," replied Hebe, blushing, "that I was to have married the
son of a King whose dominions were adjacent to those of my father;
but, after several events, the love he conceived for the Princess, my
sister, induced him to fly with her from my father's kingdom."
The Prince of the Peaceful Island said a thousand tender things to the
beautiful Hebe respecting the happy destiny which, in accordance with
the Fairy's desire, had brought the Princess into his dominions. She
listened to him with greater pleasure, as it interrupted her account of
her own adventures, for she feared she could not speak of her faithless
lover without the Prince's observing how great had been her affection
for him.
The Prince of the Peaceful Island led Hebe into a grotto, highly
decorated, and embellished by wonderful fountains. The further end
of the grotto was dark; there were a great many niches in it, filled
with statues of nymphs and shepherds, but they could scarcely be
distinguished in the obscurity. As soon as the Princess had remained a
few minutes in the grotto, she heard some agreeable music. A sudden and
very brilliant illumination disclosed to her that it was a portion of
these statues who were performing this music, whilst the rest advanced,
and danced before her a very elegant and well-conceived ballet. It was
intermixed with sweet and tender songs.
They had placed all the actors in this divertissement in the depths of
the grotto, to surprise the Princess more agreeably.
After the ballet wild men appeared, and served up a superb collation
under an arbour of jasmine and orange flowers.
The entertainment had nearly reached its termination, when suddenly the
Fairy Anguillette appeared in the air, seated in a car drawn by four
monkeys. She descended, and announced to the Prince of the Peaceful
Island a delightful piece of good fortune, by apprising him that it
was her desire he should become the husband of Hebe, and that that
beautiful Princess had promised her consent.
The Prince, transported with joy, was uncertain at the moment whether
his first thanks were due to Hebe or to Anguillette; and although joy
does not inspire one with such affecting expressions as sorrow, he
nevertheless acquitted himself with much talent and grace.
The Fairy determined not to leave the Prince and Princess before the
day fixed for their union. It was to be in three days. She made superb
presents to the fair Hebe and to the Prince of the Peaceful Island, and
at length, on the day she had named, they repaired, followed by their
whole Court and an infinite number of the inhabitants of the Island, to
the temple of Hymen.
It was constructed simply of branches of olive and palmtrees
interlaced, and which, by the power of the Fairy, never withered.
Hymen was therein represented by a statue of white marble, crowned with
roses, elevated on an altar, decorated only with flowers, and leaning
on a little Cupid of exquisite beauty, who, with a smiling countenance,
presented to him a crown of myrtle.
Anguillette, who had erected this temple, resolved that everything in
it should be marked by the greatest simplicity, to show that love alone
could render Hymen happy. The difficulty is to unite them. As it was a
miracle worthy the power of a Fairy, she had joined them indissolubly
in the Peaceful Island, and, contrary to the custom in other kingdoms,
one could there be married, and remain fond and faithful.
In this temple of Hymen the fair Hebe, led by Anguillette, plighted her
troth to the Prince of the Peaceful Island, and received his vows with
pleasure. She did not feel for him the same involuntary inclination
which she had done for Atimir; but her heart, being at that moment free
from passion, she received this husband, by command of the Fairy, as a
Prince worthy of her by his personal merit, and still more so by the
affection he bore to her.
The marriage was celebrated by a thousand splendid entertainments, and
Hebe found herself happy with a Prince who adored her.
In the meanwhile the King, Hebe's father, had received some ambassadors
from Atimir, who sent them to request permission for him to espouse
Ilerie. The King, Atimir's father, was dead, and that Prince was
consequently absolute master in his own country. The hand of the
Princess he had carried off was accorded to him with joy. After the
marriage Queen Ilerie sent other ambassadors to her royal parents
to request permission for her to revisit their Court, and to obtain
their forgiveness for the fault which love had caused her to commit,
and which the merit of Atimir might be pleaded in excuse of. The
King consented, and Atimir proceeded to the Palace with his bride.
A thousand entertainments marked the day of their arrival. Shortly
afterwards the fair Hebe and her charming husband sent ambassadors also
to the King and Queen, to announce their marriage to them. Anguillette
had already informed them of the event, but they did not on that
account receive the ambassadors with less delight or distinction.
Atimir was with the King when they were introduced to their first
audience. The lovely form of Hebe could never be effaced from a heart
in which she had reigned with such supreme power. Atimir sighed, in
spite of himself, at the recital of the happiness of the Prince of the
Peaceful Island. He even accused Hebe of being inconstant, forgetting
how much reason he had given her for becoming so.
The ambassadors of the Prince of the Peaceful Island returned to their
sovereign laden with honours and presents. They related to the Princess
how much delight the King and Queen had manifested at the tidings of
her happy marriage. But, oh! too faithful chroniclers, they informed
her at the same time that the Princess Ilerie and Atimir were at the
Court. These names, so dangerous to her peace, renewed her anxiety.
She was happy; but can mortals command uninterrupted felicity?
She could not resist her impatience to return to the Court of the King,
her father. It was only, she said, to see once more him and her mother.
She believed this herself; and how often, when we are in love, do we
mistake our own feelings!
Notwithstanding the threats uttered by the Fairy, in order to prevent
her from revisiting the spot where she might again behold Atimir, she
proposed this voyage to the Prince of the Peaceful Island. At first
he refused. Anguillette had forbidden him to let Hebe go out of his
dominions. She continued to press him. He adored her, and was ignorant
of the passion she had formerly entertained for Atimir. Is it possible
to refuse anything to those we love?
He hoped to please Hebe by his blind obedience. He gave orders for
their departure, and never was there seen such magnificence as was
displayed in his equipage and on board his vessels.
The sage Anguillette, indignant at the little respect paid by Hebe and
the Prince of the Peaceful Island to her instructions, abandoned them
to their destiny, and did not make her appearance to renew the prudent
advice by which they had so little profited.
The Prince and Princess embarked, and after a very prosperous voyage,
arrived at the Court of Hebe's father. The King and Queen were
extremely delighted to behold once more that dear Princess. They were
charmed with the Prince of the Peaceful Island: they celebrated the
arrival of the royal pair by a thousand entertainments throughout the
kingdom. Ilerie trembled on hearing of the return of Hebe. It was
decided that they should meet, and that no reference whatever should be
made to past events.
Atimir requested to be allowed to see Hebe. It appeared to Ilerie,
indeed, that he preferred his request with a little too much eagerness.
The Princess Hebe blushed when he entered her apartment, and they both
felt an embarrassment out of which all their presence of mind could not
extricate them.
The King, who was present, remarked it. He joined in their
conversation; and to render the visit shorter, proposed to the Princess
to descend into the Palace Gardens.
Atimir dared not offer his hand to Hebe. He bowed to her respectfully,
and retired.
But what thoughts and what feelings did he not carry away with him in
his heart! All the deep and tender passion he had formerly felt for
Hebe was rekindled in a moment. He hated Ilerie; he hated himself.
Never was infidelity followed by so much repentance, nor by so much
suffering.
In the evening he went to the Queen's apartments. The Princess Hebe
was there. He had no eyes but for her. He sought assiduously for
an opportunity of speaking to her. She continued to avoid him; but
her glances were too clearly comprehended by him for his peace. He
persisted for some time in compelling her to observe that her eyes had
regained their former empire over him.
Hebe's heart was alarmed by it. Atimir appeared to her still too
charming. She determined to shun him as carefully as he sought her. She
never spoke to him but in presence of the Queen, and then only when she
could not possibly avoid it. She resolved also to advise the Prince of
the Peaceful Island to return speedily to his own kingdom. But with
what difficulty do we endeavour to fly from those we love!
One evening that she was reflecting on this subject, she shut herself
up in her cabinet, in order to indulge in her musings without
interruption. She found in her pocket a note, which had been slipped
into it unperceived by her, and the handwriting of Atimir, which she
recognised, threw her into an agitation which cannot be described. She
considered she ought not to read it; but her heart triumphed over her
reason, and opening it she found these lines:--
No more my love can to your heart appeal--
For me indifference alone you feel.
Your heart, fair Hebe, faithless is in turn,
So soon my fatal falsehood could it learn.
Alas, why can you not, with equal speed,
Back to its early faith the truant lead?
The happy time is past when Hebe fair,
Love's pains and pleasures deigned with me to share.
Both have their fetters broken, it is true,
But I my bondage hasten to renew.
Alas! for my sad fault must I atone,
By languishing in this sweet chain alone?
"Ah, cruel one!" exclaimed the Princess. "What have I done to you that
you seek to rekindle in my soul a passion which has cost me so much
agony?" The tears of Hebe interrupted her utterance.
In the meanwhile Ilerie was tortured by a jealousy which was but too
well founded. Atimir, carried away by his passion, lost all control
over himself. The Prince of the Peaceful Island began to perceive his
attachment to Hebe; but he was desirous of examining more narrowly the
conduct of Atimir before he spoke to the Princess on the subject. He
adored her with unabating constancy, and feared by his remarks to draw
her attention to the passion of his rival.
A few days after Hebe had received Atimir's note, a tournament was
proclaimed. The Princes, and all the young noblemen of the Court, were
invited to break a lance in honour of the ladies.
The King and Queen honoured the tournament with their presence. The
fair Hebe and the Princess Ilerie were to confer the prizes with their
own hands. One was a sword, the hilt and sheath of which were entirely
covered with jewels of extraordinary beauty. The other, a bracelet of
brilliants of the finest water.
All the knights entered for the lists made their appearance with
marvellous magnificence, and mounted on the finest horses in the world.
Each wore the colours of his mistress, and on their shields were
pictured gallant devices, expressive of the sentiments of their hearts.
The Prince of the Peaceful Island was superbly attired, and rode a
dun-coloured horse with black mane and tail of incomparable beauty. In
all his appointments rose colour was predominant. It was the favourite
colour of Hebe. An ample plume of the same hue floated above his light
helmet. He drew down the applause of all the spectators, and looked so
handsome in his brilliant armour, that Hebe mentally reproached herself
a thousand times for entertaining such feelings as the unhappiness of
another had inspired her with.
The retinue of the Prince of the Peaceful Island was numerous. They
were all attired according to the fashion of their country. Everything
around him was elegant and costly. An esquire bore his shield, and all
were eager to examine the device.
It was a heart pierced with an arrow; a little Cupid was depicted
shooting many others at it to inflict fresh wounds, but all except the
first appeared to have been shot in vain. Beneath were these words:--
"I fear no others."
The colour and the device of the Prince of the Peaceful Island,
rendered it obvious that it was as the champion of the fair Hebe he had
chosen to enter the lists.
The spectators were still admiring his magnificent array, when Atimir
appeared, mounted on a proud and fiery steed, entirely black. The
prevailing colour of the dress he had assumed for that day was what is
usually termed "dead-leaf," unadorned with gold, silver, or jewels; but
on his helmet he wore a tuft of rose-coloured feathers, and although he
affected great negligence in his attire, he was so handsome, and bore
himself so proudly, that from the moment he entered the lists no one
looked at anything else. On his shield, which he carried himself, was
painted a Cupid trampling upon some chains, while at the same time he
was loading himself with others that were heavier. Around the figure
were these words:--
"These alone are worthy of me."
The train of Atimir were attired in dead-leaf and silver, and on them
he had showered jewels. It was composed of the principal noblemen of
his Court, and although they were all fine-looking men, it was easy
to see by the air of Atimir that he was born to command them. It is
impossible to describe the various emotions which the sight of Atimir
awakened in the hearts of Hebe and Ilerie, and the poignant jealousy
which the Prince of the Peaceful Island felt when he saw floating over
the helmet of Atimir, a plume of the same colour as his own.
The motto of his device kindled his anger into a fury, which he
controlled for the moment, only to choose a better time to vent it on
his rival.
The King and Queen saw clearly enough the audacity and imprudence of
Atimir, and were exceedingly angry with him; but it was not the time to
show it.
The tilting was commenced amidst a flourish of trumpets which rent
the air. It was exceedingly good. All the young knights made proof of
their skill. The Prince of the Peaceful Island, although a prey to his
jealousy, signalized himself particularly, and remained conqueror.
Atimir, who was aware that the prize for the first encounter would be
given by Ilerie, did not present himself to dispute the victory with
the Prince of the Peaceful Island. The judges of the field declared
the latter victor; and, amidst the acclamation and applause of all the
spectators, he advanced with the greatest possible grace to the spot
where the Royal Family were seated, to receive the diamond bracelet.
The Princess Ilerie presented it to him. He received it with due
respect, and having saluted the King, Queen, and Princesses, returned
to his place in the lists.
The mournful Ilerie had too clearly observed the contempt with which
the fickle Atimir had treated the prize destined to be accorded by
her hand. She sighed sadly, while the fair Hebe felt a secret joy
which reason vainly endeavoured to stifle in her heart. Other courses
were run with results similar to those which had preceded them. The
Prince of the Peaceful Island, animated by the presence of Hebe,
performed wonders, and was a second time conqueror; but Atimir, weary
of beholding the glory of his rival, and flattered by the idea of
receiving the prize from the hand of Hebe, presented himself at the
opposite end of the lists.
The rivals gazed at each other fiercely, and the impending encounter
between two such great Princes was distinguished by the fresh agitation
which it excited in the two Princesses. The Princes ran their course
with equal advantage. Each broke his lance fairly without swerving in
his saddle. The acclamations were redoubled, and the Princes, without
giving their horses time to breathe, returned to their places, received
fresh lances, and ran a second course with the same address as the
first. The King, who feared to see Fortune give the victory to either
of these rivals, and in order to spare the feelings of both, sent in
all haste to them to say that they ought to be satisfied with the glory
they had acquired, and to request them to let the tilting terminate for
that day with the course they had just run.
The King's messenger having approached them, they listened with
impatience to the royal request, particularly Atimir, who, seizing the
first opportunity to reply, said, "Go, tell the King that I should be
unworthy the honour he does me in taking an interest in my glory, if I
could remain satisfied without conquest."
"Let us see," rejoined the Prince of the Peaceful Island, clapping
spurs to his horse, "who best deserves the esteem of the King and the
favours of Fortune!"
The King's messenger had not retraced his steps to the royal balcony
before the two rivals, animated by stronger feelings than the mere
desire to carry off the prize of the joust, had met in full career.
Fortune favoured the audacious Atimir: he was the conqueror. The horse
of the Prince of the Peaceful Island, fatigued with the many severe
courses he had run, fell, and rolled his master in the dust.
What joy for Atimir! and what fury for the unfortunate Prince of the
Peaceful Island! Leaping to his feet again instantly, and advancing
to his rival before any one could reach to part them,--"Thou hast
conquered me in these games, Atimir," said he, with an air which
sufficiently expressed his wrath, "but it is with the sword that our
quarrel must be decided." "Willingly," replied the haughty Atimir.
"I will await thee to-morrow at sunrise in the wood that borders the
palace gardens." The Judges of the Field joined them as these last
words were uttered, and the Princes mutually affected unconcern, for
fear the King should suspect and frustrate their intentions. The Prince
of the Peaceful Island remounted his horse, and rode with all the speed
he could urge it to, from the fatal spot where he had been defeated by
Atimir. In the meanwhile that Prince proceeded to receive the prize
of the joust from the hand of Hebe, who presented it to him with a
confusion sufficiently betraying the conflicting emotions in her bosom;
while Atimir, in receiving it, displayed all the extravagancies of a
passionate lover.
The King and Queen, who kept their eyes upon him, could not fail to
observe this, and returned to the Palace much discontented with the
termination of the day. Atimir, occupied only by his passion, left
the lists, forbidding any of his train to accompany him; and Ilerie,
smarting with grief and jealousy, retired to her apartments.
What then were the feelings of Hebe! "I must depart," she said to
herself. "What other remedy is there for the evil I anticipate?"
In the meanwhile, the King and the Queen determined to request Atimir
would return to his own dominions, to avoid the painful consequences
which his love might entail upon them. They resolved also to make the
same proposition to the Prince of the Peaceful Island, in order not to
show any preference for either; but ah! too tardy prudence! whilst they
were deliberating how best to secure the departure of the two Princes,
the rivals were preparing to meet in mortal combat.
Hebe, on returning from the lists, immediately inquired for the Prince
of the Peaceful Island. She was answered that he was in the palace
gardens; that he had desired he might not be followed, and that he
appeared very melancholy. The fair Hebe thought it was her duty to seek
and console him for the slight mischances which had happened to him,
and therefore, without staying a moment in her own apartment, descended
into the gardens, followed only by a few of her women.
In the course of her search for the Prince of the Peaceful Island, she
entered a shady alley, and came suddenly on the enamoured Atimir, who,
transported by his passion, and listening only to its promptings, threw
himself on his knees at a short distance from the Princess, and drawing
the sword which he had that day received from her hand, exclaimed,
"Hear me, beautiful Hebe! or see me die at your feet!"
Hebe's attendants, terrified by the actions of the Prince, rushed upon
him, and endeavoured to force from his grasp the sword, the point of
which he had directed towards himself with desperate resolution. Hebe,
the unhappy Hebe, would have flown from the spot; but how many reasons
concurred to detain her near him she loved!
The desire to suppress the scandal this adventure might create; the
intention to implore Atimir to endeavour to stifle a passion which
was so perilous to them; the pity naturally awakened by so affecting
an object,--everything, in short, conspired to arrest her flight. She
approached the Prince. Her presence suspended his fury. He let fall
his sword at the feet of the Princess. Never was so much agitation,
so much love, so much anguish, displayed in an interview that lasted
but a few minutes. No words can express the feelings of those wretched
lovers during that brief period. Hebe, alarmed at finding herself in
the company of Atimir, almost, perhaps, in sight of the Prince of
the Peaceful Island, made a great effort to depart, and left him
with a command never to see her more. What an order for Atimir! But
for the recollection of the combat to which he had been challenged
by the Prince of the Peaceful Island, he would have turned his sword
an hundred times against his own breast; but he trusted to perish in
revenging himself on his rival.
In the meanwhile, the fair Hebe shut herself up in her own chamber,
to avoid more surely the sight of Atimir. "Relentless Fairy," she
cried, "thou didst only predict my death as the consequence of my again
beholding this unhappy Prince; but the tortures I suffer are a much
more dreadful penalty." Hebe sent her attendants to seek for the Prince
of the Peaceful Island in the gardens, and throughout the Palace; but
he was nowhere to be found, and she became extremely anxious on his
account. They hunted for him all night long, but in vain, for he had
concealed himself in a little rustic building in the middle of the
wood, to be more certain that no one could prevent his proceeding to
the spot fixed on for the combat. He was on the ground at sunrise, and
Atimir arrived a few minutes afterwards. The two rivals, impatient
for revenge and victory, drew their swords. It was the first time the
Prince of the Peaceful Island had wielded his in earnest, for war was
unknown in his island.
He proved, however, not a less redoubtable antagonist on that account
to Atimir. He had little skill, but much bravery, and great love. He
fought like a man who set no value on his life, and Atimir worthily
sustained in this combat the high reputation he had previously
acquired. The Princes were animated by too many vindictive feelings
for their encounter not to terminate fatally. After having fought with
equal advantage for a considerable period, they dealt each other at the
same instant so furious a blow, that both fell to the earth which was
speedily red with their blood.
The Prince of the Peaceful Island fainted with the loss of his; and
Atimir, mortally wounded, uttered but the name of Hebe as he expired
for her sake.
One of the parties in search of the Prince of the Peaceful Island
arrived on the spot, and were horror-struck at the sight of this cruel
spectacle.
The Princess Hebe, urged by her anxiety, had descended into the
gardens. She hastened towards the place from whence she heard the
exclamations of her people, who uttered in confusion the names of the
two Princes, and beheld these fatal and affecting objects. She believed
the Prince of the Peaceful Island was dead as well as Atimir, and at
that moment there was little difference to be distinguished between
them. "Precious lives," exclaimed Hebe, despairingly, after gazing for
an instant on the unfortunate Princes,--"precious lives, which have
been sacrificed for me; I hasten to avenge you by the termination of my
own!" With these words she flung herself upon the fatal sword Atimir
had received from her hands, and buried the point in her bosom before
her people, astonished at this dreadful scene, had power to prevent her.
She expired, and the Fairy Anguillette, moved by so much misery despite
of all the obstacles her science had enabled her to raise, appeared
on the spot which had witnessed the destruction of these beautiful
beings. The Fairy upbraided Fate, and could not restrain her tears.
Then hastening to succour the Prince of the Peaceful Island, who she
knew was still breathing, she healed his wound, and transported him in
an instant to his own island, where, by the miraculous power she had
conferred on it, the Prince consoled himself for his loss, and forgot
his passion for Hebe.
The King and Queen, who had not the advantage of such assistance,
gave themselves up entirely to their sorrow; and time only brought
them consolation. As to Ilerie, nothing could exceed her despair. She
remained constant to her grief, and to the memory of the ungrateful
Atimir.
Meanwhile, Anguillette, having transported the Prince of the Peaceful
Island to his dominions, touched with her wand the sad remains of the
charming Atimir and the lovely Hebe. At the same instant they were
transformed into two trees of the most perfect beauty. The Fairy gave
them the name of _Charmes_,[9] to preserve for ever the remembrance of
the charms which had been so brilliantly displayed in the persons of
these unfortunate lovers.