The dwarfs celebrated the crowning of their first princess by joyous
revels. Harmless and innocent games succeeded each other in the huge
amphitheatre; and the little men, with cockades of fern or two oak
leaves fastened coquettishly to their hoods, bounded gaily across the
subterranean streets. The rejoicings lasted thirty days. During
the universal excitement Pic looked like a mortal inspired; Tad the
kind-hearted was intoxicated by the universal joy; Dig the tender gave
expression to his delight in tears; Rug, in his ecstasy, again demanded
that Honey-Bee should be put in a cage, but this time so that the dwarfs
need not be afraid to lose so charming a princess; Bob, mounted on his
raven, filled the air with such cries of rapture that the sable bird,
infected by the gaiety, gave vent to innumerable playful little croaks.
Only King Loc was sad.
On the thirtieth day, having given the princess and the dwarf people
a festival of unparalleled magnificence, he mounted his throne, and so
stood that his kind face just reached her car.
“My Princess Honcy-Bee,” he said, “I am about to make a request which
you are at liberty either to accept or to refuse. Honey-Bee of Clarides,
Princess of the Dwarfs, will you be my wife?”
As he spoke, King Loc, grave and tender, had something of the gentle
beauty of a majestic poodle.
“Little King Loc,” Honey-Bee replied, as she pulled his beard, “I am
willing to become your wife for fun, but never your wife for good. The
moment you asked me to marry you I was reminded of Francoeur, who when
I was on earth used to amuse me by telling me the most ridiculous
stories.”
At these words King Loc turned his head away, but not so soon but that
Honey-Bee saw the tears in his eyes. Then Honey-Bee was grieved because
she had pained him.
“Little King Loc,” she said to him, “I love you for the little King Loc
you are; and if you make me laugh as Francoeur did, there is nothing
in that to vex you, for Francoeur sang well and he would have been very
handsome if it had not been for his grey hair and his red nose.”
“Honey-Bee of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs,” the king replied, “I
love you in the hope that some day you will love me. And yet without
that hope I should love you just the same. The only return I ask for my
friendship is that you will always be honest with me.”
“Little King Loc, I promise.”
“Well then, tell me truly, Honey-Bee, do you love some one else enough
to marry him?”
“Little King Loc, I love no one enough for that.”
Whereupon King Loc smiled, and seizing his golden cup he proposed, with
a resounding voice, the health of the Princess of the Dwarfs. An immense
uproar rose from the depths of the earth, for the banquet table reached
from one end to the other of the Empire of the Dwarfs.