There was once upon a time a Fairy named Bonnebonne, who became
weary of the great offices in Fairy Land to which her character and
talents had elevated her. She retired from state affairs, and chose
for her retreat an island situated in the midst of a very beautiful
lake, bordered by the most rich, smiling, and luxuriant scenery. This
charming retreat was called the "Island of Happiness." It is known to
have existed; it is even believed by some to be always in the country
adjoining their own; but the geographers have not yet laid it down
in any map, and I have never read of any traveller fortunate enough
to land on it. It is sufficient for us, however, that we have a full
account of it in the annals of the Fairies.
Bonnebonne, as we have already stated, weary of the world, and not
caring to pay court to it, demanded of the Queen of the Fairies
permission to withdraw from it altogether, and went to reside in the
Island of Happiness. It was there that, with the finest library and all
the knowledge she had acquired in the world, she became the most clever
of all the fairies. She made all her neighbours happy, and gratitude
was the foundation of her authority. Independently of a natural
inclination to oblige, a sentiment which retirement from the great
world by no means tends to diminish, there is a great satisfaction in
seeing those around us happy.
In order to enjoy this real pleasure, and at the same time to avoid
being overwhelmed with foolish petitions, she had placed, at short
distances from each other, columns of white marble, to which those
addressed themselves who had either requests or complaints to make.
These columns were constructed in such a manner that, on speaking in a
whisper to them, they repeated every word distinctly, and in the same
tone of voice, in a cabinet of the castle. Bonnebonne had lodged in
this cabinet a niece whom she had brought up as a fairy, and who gave
her an account every evening of all that the columns had reported, and
the Fairy then pronounced her decisions.
The principal occupation of Bonnebonne was to educate and make children
happy: she gave them for breakfast as well as for luncheon everything
they could wish for in sweetmeats and pastry; but when they had been a
fortnight in this happy dwelling, they cared no more for sugar-plums,
but passed the day in running on the grass, gathering nuts in the
woods, or flowers in the gardens. They went on the lake in pretty
boats, which they rowed themselves--in short, they did all day just
whatever they liked, and happiness consists principally in liberty.
It is true that they had nurses and tutors, but they were generally
invisible. They informed Bonnebonne of anything their pupils had done
that was wrong, and for this she reprimanded the offender, but always
with mildness, for she was the most kind-hearted woman in the world.
Sometimes the nurses and preceptors made themselves visible, and on
these occasions they might be seen supping all together on the turf, or
dancing and singing, or amusing themselves in making toys and dolls;
in short, nothing had an air of severity in this happy abode, and no
one left it without the greatest regret. But as all must submit to
fate, and the Fairies themselves are obliged to obey it, when the young
people had attained a certain age--that is to say, twelve or fifteen
years,--and when the lessons of the Fairy had made a sort of impression
on the minds of her pupils, and she considered them sufficiently well
informed to enter into the world, she was obliged to send them home,
which she always did laden with caresses and presents, and assurances
of a friendship the proof of which she frequently gave them in the
after course of their lives.
Amongst the number of children confided to her care by their
parents, there was a little girl named Bleuette, so pretty and so
good that Bonnebonne preferred her to all the rest, and loved her
to distraction. She was affectionate without being troublesome, and
lively without being fatiguing; her face expressed the sweetness of
her character: her beauty increased with her age, and possessed that
peculiar brilliancy which is so dazzling. It is to her rare beauty that
we owe the familiar saying, still in use amongst us, when we speak of
anything which has dazzled us, "J'ai vu des Bleuettes."
A boy, about two years older than Bleuette, also inhabited the Island
of Happiness; he was called Coquelicot: his face was charming, it was
as bright as his mind, and his pretty little graceful ways were equally
pleasing to Bonnebonne. That which rendered both more charming was,
that in their infancy they became inseparable, and that the vivacity
of the one was tempered by the mildness and tenderness of the other.
Bonnebonne daily enjoyed observing the impression and progress which
true love makes upon innocence and ingenuousness. She was constantly
occupied in the study of it, and felt that all other happiness, which
she knew so well how to procure, could not be compared to it; indeed,
what felicity can be placed in the balance with that of two hearts
which love has united by similarity of taste and temper?
Coquelicot, quick as he was, perhaps, indeed, too soon excited, was
moderate and even mild in all that regarded Bleuette, who on her part,
was only animated and vivacious in matters which concerned Coquelicot.
The birth and progress of these sentiments had been their delight; the
sweet emotions which they exhibited were the charm of Bonnebonne's
existence, for she said to herself a hundred times, "Good Heavens! how
pretty are these poor children! How they love each other! How happy
they are; they never think of leaving my Island. Never have more happy
subjects inhabited my empire!"
On an evening of one of the most beautiful of summer days, all the
lovely children were playing and amusing themselves in different parts
of this enchanted residence, when all at once there appeared in the air
a car drawn by six flame-coloured griffins: the car was of the same
colour, relieved with black ornaments: it bore the Fairy Arganto. Her
hair was powdered brown with a slight sprinkle of red.[32]
Her dress was of the same colour as the car. Her griffins alighted
at the portico of the castle, whither Bonnebonne and her niece had
repaired to do the honours to the Fairy, and assist her to descend.
After the first compliments, Arganto confessed to Bonnebonne that not
being able to understand the pleasures of retirement, and disgusted by
some disagreements at Court, she had wished to judge for herself of
the pleasures and cares of a life like hers, and that, in order to be
perfectly enlightened on the subject, she had come to the resolution of
passing some days with her.
Bonnebonne kindly replied that she would willingly satisfy her, and
hide nothing from her. "The beauties of nature," added she, "are the
pictures which I study; its fruits are my treasures; its secrets the
object of my researches, and my pleasures are solely dependent on the
happiness of others. Infancy is the state of humanity which can be made
the most happy; you will find me, therefore, only surrounded by the
prettiest children nature has produced."
So saying, she led Arganto further into the Island, at each step
encountering troops of little children of both sexes and all ages,
whose natural manners inspired true gaiety; some danced, others played
at blindman's-buff, some amused themselves playing at "ladies and
gentlemen," in short they passed quickly from one fancy to another;
their characters were thus developed, and it was easy to imagine
what each would become at a more advanced age. Arganto thought this
recreation of Bonnebonne very poor; she judged of it as a person of
fashion, that is to say, with contempt. She told her companion that
she could not conceive the pleasure of such amusements, unless some
ingenuity was employed to improve them: it was in vain that Bonnebonne
eulogized them. She would not be persuaded; at length, continuing their
walk, they met Bleuette and Coquelicot, conversing together, who saw
nothing but themselves in nature, and who had no pleasure, no wish, no
occupation nor will but in common.
Bonnebonne called them, and they ran towards her with that confidence
and affection which her goodness and their gratitude had inspired them
with. Arganto was struck with the charms of their countenances, and
said as much to them; they blushed, and thanked the Fairy for each
other. "I agree," said she to Bonnebonne, "that nature could not
present a more agreeable picture than that of these lovely children;
but," continued she, "are they as intelligent as their features would
seem to denote?" "Most assuredly," replied Bonnebonne, "it may not
be perhaps the kind of intelligence to please you, for it is quite
natural. Besides this, they love each other more than they choose to
acknowledge, especially to a stranger." The Fairies then embraced them
a thousand times, and left them together.
Bonnebonne agreed with Arganto not to trouble herself about her during
her stay, but to occupy herself as usual with her studies; but the
latter could not help speaking of the impression which Bleuette and
Coquelicot had made on her, and she requested they might keep her
company.
Arganto was born wicked, and wickedness looks with impatience on the
happiness of others, and is always at work to destroy it, even if
with no other motive but that of doing mischief. Upon these fearful
principles, she employed the time of her visit in pointing out to
her young companions the poverty and insipidity of the place they
inhabited; they, whom nature had formed for the delight and ornament of
the most brilliant Court; and then she gave them a glowing description
of the abodes of kings. "You are enchanted," said she, continually,
"with the life which you lead; but do you know any other? The splendour
of the world, the fêtes which are given to beauty alone, the preference
which is at all times accorded to it, are the real triumphs of a pretty
girl;" it was thus she spoke to Bleuette. "And you," addressing herself
to Coquelicot, "with the spirit you possess, what would you not do at
Court? You certainly must be brave; and of what are you not capable?"
This wicked discourse made by degrees the impression which Arganto
wished upon the minds of these amiable children. They sought each
other's company as usual, but they found each other no longer occupied
with themselves alone: they began by self reproaches, and at length
made reciprocal confessions, for they could no longer talk of anything
else but the opinions of the Fairy. Love, and the hope of not being
separated, it is true, were the foundation of their projects; but
curiosity, and the novelty of all which Arganto had told them, and
above all, self-love, the poison of life, perverted at length their
innocent minds; they abandoned themselves to the wicked fairy, who,
in order to make them fall more easily into the snare she had laid
for them, did not neglect to destroy the respect and gratitude they
entertained for Bonnebonne, by telling them, "She is a provincial
fairy, whose taste is not at all refined. Her character not suiting the
Court, she is too happy to be able to keep you with her; she sacrifices
your fortunes to the pleasure and use which you are of to her." It was
by such discourse as this that she induced these children to become
ungrateful: she promised them not to forsake them, and assured them
that, being a more powerful fairy than Bonnebonne, they need not be
anxious about anything. She did even more,--she warned them of all that
the good fairy would say to them when she should learn the resolution
they had taken: in short, they promised to follow her after she had
again given them her word that they should not be separated.
When Arganto was well assured of the part they had taken, she said
to Bonnebonne that it was time she should cease to trouble her in
her retreat, and begged her, at the same time, to allow her to take
with her Bleuette and Coquelicot. The good Fairy, who had perceived
nothing, and who had no suspicion of the designs of Arganto, as she
had herself ordered them to pay court to and obey the Fairy, whilst
she was occupied in her cabinet, and above all, because a good heart
cannot imagine ingratitude: Bonnebonne, as I said before, consented
to Arganto's request, with the understanding, however, that the
proposition should please the young couple, feeling quite convinced
that they would never wish to leave her. The question was put to them
on the spot. What was the astonishment of Bonnebonne when they accepted
the proposal to abandon her and follow the Fairy! They set at nought
all her reasonings, so full of friendship and good advice; they were
too deeply prejudiced against her. Bonnebonne then said to them, with
mildness, "It is conviction which makes happiness. You would cease to
be happy in this abode, because you imagine greater felicity awaits you
in another country: depart, let nothing detain you," said she, with
tears in her eyes, "may you be contented."
Bleuette and Coquelicot were moved by this tender discourse, and on the
point of falling at the feet of this adorable fairy, and conjuring
her to forget that they had ever had the idea of separating from her;
but the emotion they felt at the moment made them both faint away, so
that the wickedness of Arganto was not required to counteract this
return of good feeling. She herself was touched by so tender a scene,
and at the moment almost repented having caused so much sorrow to three
persons, who were only to blame for placing too much confidence in her.
Not knowing exactly what to do, she prepared to set out alone, when
Bonnebonne said, "I might complain of the manner in which you have
abused the reception I have given you: but the great fruit of study and
of solitude is forgiveness of injuries. I am not, therefore, at all
affected by it myself, but I feel for the misfortune of these young
people--I love them both." "I will not take them away, then," replied
Arganto; "you see they have refused me, and you cannot doubt the
attachment they feel for you." "No," replied Bonnebonne, "I feel myself
compelled to beg you to take with you those I loved best in my retreat;
you have perverted them, their hearts are no longer what they were:
they would henceforth only live with me out of compliment. If they had
sufficient art to disguise it from me, could I be ignorant of their
thoughts? Take them, then, I conjure you, and at least protect them
amongst the dangers to which you expose them." "As you absolutely wish
it," replied Arganto, "I will do so." She then carried them, fainting
as they were, both into her car, and her griffins flying at a rapid
pace speedily landed them in the Kingdom of Errors.
The King who governed it at that time thought himself the greatest of
princes. Flattery had persuaded him that he was descended from the
gods. In consequence of this idea he caused himself to be worshipped
by his subjects. His throne of gold and precious stones, upon which he
only appeared once a month, was surrounded by tigers and elephants,
bound with chains of the same precious materials, and covered with
superb embroidery. Without entering into further details of the
ceremonies of this court, suffice it to say, the King exhibited upon
every occasion all the ostentation with which a crown could inspire
him. Arganto was his best friend, the partaker of his pleasures, and it
was into the superb palace which she possessed at his court that she
conducted Bleuette and Coquelicot.
The moment they recovered from their swoon they had the pleasure of
seeing each other. The magnificence of the place in which they found
themselves astonished them. Their uncertainty did not last long:
Arganto entered to dissipate it. They immediately asked her to give
them some news of Bonnebonne. The Fairy informed them that Bonnebonne
had consented to their advancement, and had herself conjured her to
take them away. Bleuette and Coquelicot were comforted by this account,
for they had been afraid of displeasing her. Arganto then said to them,
"Here, Bleuette, is the apartment prepared for you; your household
shall be formed to-night. Meanwhile, here are your waiting-women: let
me present them to you."
At these words, there appeared a dozen handsome young persons, carrying
all the innumerable trifles which have become so necessary to a lady's
toilet. They were followed by an equal number of valets-de-chambre,
bearing boxes and caskets, and who in a few moments fitted up and set
out a most superb dressing-table. Garments adapted to the season then
appeared in such great profusion that they covered all the chairs,
beds, and couches in this large apartment. When everything was arranged
according to the Fairy's pleasure, she said to Bleuette, "This all
belongs to you, and you have nothing to study but how to avail yourself
of it." She then showed her a basket full of ornaments and a jewel-case
crammed with precious stones as perfect in themselves as they were
tastefully set, saying to her, "Beautiful Bleuette, this little
jewel-box will amuse you, but let us now proceed to the apartment I
destine for Coquelicot." Bleuette followed the Fairy without being
able to reply; her surprise and astonishment appeared to her like a
beautiful dream. They all three passed into another apartment. It was
plain, but neat. Four valets-de-chambre, who were in the second room,
stept forward and presented him with clothes as tasteful as they were
superb, in order that he might select those in which he wished to
appear that day. They then opened the door of a sort of large cabinet,
containing all kinds of musical instruments, also a library well
stocked with historical works, but more particularly with romances and
fairy tales.
"Behold," said Arganto, "what will amuse you when you are weary of
the pleasures of society, or require rest after exercise." She then
commanded the person she had chosen for his equerry to appear.
"You may," said she to Coquelicot, "take his advice; he is a man to
be depended on, and a good companion. Show," continued she to this
gentleman, "the things of which you have the charge." There then
appeared servants in livery, who carried the most magnificent and
perfect arms for war and the chase. And even this was not all: "Let
us," said Arganto, "look out of the window." They obeyed her, and
perceived fifty saddle-horses, led by five-and-twenty grooms, superbly
clothed and well mounted. "There," said she, "are your horses for
hunting and riding." She then ordered out the carriages: berlins,
berlingots, vis-à-vis, calêches of all kinds, defiled under the
windows, drawn by the prettiest and best groomed horses in the world,
with their manes tastefully plaited. Coquelicot, as much astonished as
Bleuette, observed also the same silence. "Learn, both of you," said
Arganto, "to make good use of what I have just given you; you are both
charming, but believe me, dress is necessary to beauty." She then left
them in their separate apartments, questioning their new domestics on
the particular use of all the novelties that surrounded them, for they
dared not yet give any orders. They at length dressed themselves, and
Coquelicot proceeding to the apartment of Bleuette, they were mutually
astonished at the agreeable effect of their attire, and uttering a
hundred praises of the good taste of Arganto, they became more than
ever convinced of the truth of what she had told them respecting
Bonnebonne, for whose simplicity they began to blush.
All the Court learning the arrival of Bleuette and Coquelicot, either
from curiosity or the desire to please the Fairy, came with great
eagerness to pay her a visit. The King himself did her this honour. The
praises of the men of Bleuette, and those of the women of Coquelicot,
gratified both exceedingly. They found that the language spoken in this
country had an agreeable style hitherto quite unknown to them; they
were struck by it, and thought of nothing but imitating it. Bleuette,
from the first day, perceived that Coquelicot was not made for his fine
clothes, and that he had a borrowed air which the other young men who
surrounded her had not: in short, both were occupied by a thousand new
fancies. They saw each other every day, it is true, but they sought
each other less; and the tender conversations, in which simplicity,
ingenuousness, candour, and truth had formerly so large a share, no
longer took place between them; they were only anxious now to place
their words and turn their phrases according to the style which they
had been so much struck with in their new residence.
The dress, the magnificence, and the brilliancy with which they dazzled
the whole court caused every one to give them the titles of prince and
princess. They knew well that they did not deserve them from their low
birth; but the mistake of others gratified their vanity. They agreed
between them to keep their real condition secret, and hoped privately
that their beauty and merit would in time really raise them to that
dignity.
Coquelicot had perfectly handsome features and a charming figure. He
performed all kinds of feats with marvellous success; almost all the
ladies were pulling caps for him. Bleuette was not in the least jealous
of his conquests, and although in such situations one is not always
just, she had at least the generosity not to reproach him in any way.
In fact, she deserved reproaching equally herself, for the Court and
its grand airs had changed her heart and mind as much as his. Bleuette,
on her part, thinking of nothing but how to attract admiration and
to outvie all the other beauties of the Court, became a practised
coquette. You may easily judge, knowing what I have told you, how long
she was in availing herself of all the presents of the Fairy. She very
soon invented fashions, which all the other ladies, handsome or ugly,
were, in spite of themselves, obliged to follow. During some time this
gratification of her vanity only presented to her view jealous rivals,
men captivated and admiring, flattered or plunged into despair, by her
glances and her deceptive and provoking speeches; but Bleuette was so
beautiful, she had so much wit and grace, that, even when making them
most miserable, she was the theme of their praises and the object of
attraction to all the finest people of the Court. She also conducted
herself with so much prudence that no one could cast the least slur on
her.
Coquelicot, on his part--"fickle adorer of a thousand different
objects"--flattered his vanity without ever satisfying his heart.
Such was the true and unhappy situation in which these two persons,
formerly the most loving and amiable possible, found themselves,
when this same vanity, the shoal on which so much happiness has been
wrecked, was itself violently offended.
It must be remembered that, dazzled by the splendour which surrounded
them, they had both received with pleasure the titles of princes;
but nothing is unknown to the world, and such vanity would awaken
a contempt for falsehood, in those who have no higher motive for
despising it. A youth, brought up, as they had been, by Bonnebonne,
in the Island of Happiness, having wandered from it, as many others
had done, in passing through several countries, had been attracted to
the Court inhabited by Bleuette and Coquelicot. He was astonished to
hear the grand titles of prince and princess added to their well-known
names, he ran, however, to the Fairy's palace to embrace them; but far
from receiving him kindly, they did not condescend even to recognise
him. He complained to everybody who would listen to him, and all
the Court were very soon informed that Princess Bleuette and Prince
Coquelicot were the children of, 'twas true, very honest people, but
who were nothing but poor shepherds. The Court is a region in which
nothing is forgiven, and where anything ridiculous is sought for with
the greatest eagerness; therefore, it profited by this affair. Songs
and epigrams were circulated in a moment; and the objects of their
attack could not pretend ignorance of them, for, according to the
praiseworthy custom of the authors of such works, the first copies were
addressed to the persons most interested. Coquelicot was bantered by
one of the wits of the Court; but he demanded very prompt satisfaction,
and the combat, in which he killed his adversary, brought him honour
in a place where truth is so rare, notwithstanding that a falsehood is
never pardoned. They rendered justice to his valour, but they no longer
paid him the same attentions; for in short, although riches can obtain
everything, the ridicule attached to low birth combined with vanity
is rarely overlooked at Court. As for Bleuette, whom wounded pride
rendered still more haughty than ever, and who hoped by her beauty
and accomplishments to stifle the disagreeable reports which had been
spread about her former pastoral condition--Bleuette, I must tell you,
had, in addition, the mortification to see some letters which she had
had the imprudence to write handed round amongst her acquaintances.
Her attraction diminished and her reputation tarnished (however
unjustly) hurt her deeply, and induced her to reflect seriously.
Recalling then the remembrance of her former happiness, the words of
Bonnebonne presented themselves to her mind.
Bleuette being thus agitated by all the recollections which led her
back to her first sentiments for Coquelicot, looked only with regret
upon the conduct she had pursued towards him since she had been at
Court. She was ashamed of it, but it was not possible for her to speak
to him openly on the subject. "He will consider," said she, "my most
sincere repentance to be caused either by coquetry or jealousy; and I
cannot complain, or he will believe that my birth being known and made
public in this country, has deranged my projects of advancement, and
that I am brought back to him only by a feeling of shame and necessity."
"No," continued she, "I will not betray to him all the weakness of my
heart, or all the pain which the false friendship of Arganto has caused
me."
Similar ideas tormented Coquelicot. He thought all those who treated
him, as formerly, like a prince, did so in mockery, and to ridicule
him, and felt satisfied that those whose conduct was changed by the
reports which had been spread respecting him would give him continual
annoyance; this situation, distressing as it really could well be, was
not the sole evil which oppressed him. The remembrance of Bleuette,
tender, faithful, simple, and innocent; the recollection of the
residence of Bonnebonne, and that of the charm and peace that pervaded
it, awoke in his soul so great a disgust for all that the world calls
pleasure, and which he had himself taken for happiness, that he
determined to fly from the Court. They had but to speak to one another,
and they would have been convinced and consoled; but still young and
inexperienced, they determined on the thing of all others to be avoided
in love and friendship--silence: for want of confidence increases and
envenoms the wound we have received, as well as that which we have
inflicted on others; thus, therefore, not daring to look at each other
(so much had the shame of their proceedings made an impression on
their hearts), they each separately, and without communicating their
intentions to any one, made up their minds to quit the Court. Solitude
appeared to offer them the only chance of consolation. They departed
the same morning, just as if they had been acting in concert. They
chose the plainest dresses they could find, not without regretting
those they had brought with them to the Court; they would have felt
still nearer approaching their former innocence, in habits so vividly
recalling the scenes of their past felicity. They took nothing away
with them but the portraits which Arganto had had painted of them in
miniature, representing them as they were when they left the Island of
Happiness.
They set out by very different roads; but in proportion as they left
the Court behind them, nature spoke to their hearts. The song of the
birds, the serenity of the air, the view of the country, that sweet
freedom which it inspires,--all recalled their former happiness, all
softened them, and drew them towards each other. "But how shall we ever
find each other again," said they unceasingly to themselves. "I should
have convinced him," thought Bleuette. "She would have pardoned me,"
sighed Coquelicot: "I will return to the Court. But how can I reappear
there (for each thought the other had remained in the palace) in this
miserable condition?" The remembrance of Bonnebonne again presented
itself to their mind. It is friendship we invoke in adversity. They
resolved then to have recourse to her kindness. If they had not
themselves known the delights of the Island of Happiness, if they had
not been anxious to revisit the scenes of their former felicity, it
is so natural to desire a similar habitation, that we often set out
in search of it on the description of others. Each, therefore, turned
their steps in the direction of the Island. It was very easy for them
to find the way, they who had once so worthily inhabited it. They
intended to address themselves to one of the columns of which I have
spoken, and which conveyed to the ears of the Fairy all the requests
of her petitioners. What was their surprise, or rather what was their
delight, to meet with each other again on a spot and in a dress which
explained everything! After the first transports, in which the eye
hardly sufficed to satisfy the soul, the first words they uttered were,
"Pardon me, I cannot live without you." The pardon which is mutually
sought is soon granted; and it was no longer necessary to implore the
aid of the Fairy. The unison of their desires had already transported
them into the most beautiful spot in the Island. They were anxious
to excuse themselves, and request the forgiveness of Bonnebonne; but
she prevented them. "I know all that has happened to you," said she,
"I have shared your troubles, although they were deserved. Enjoy the
happiness of my empire, you are now better able to appreciate its
delights."
They lived happily because they never ceased to love each other, and
they died at the same moment. Bonnebonne bestowed their names upon two
wild flowers[33] in order to immortalize their memory.