kneeling before her, appeared struck by something which made an
impression as sudden as disagreeable. She repulsed Prince Favourite,
saying she was seized with a headache, and could not be troubled with
company.
The lover submissively arose and went to seek the queen, beseeching
her to find out what he had done, and to intercede in his favour. Her
majesty accordingly questioned the princess, who, bathed in tears,
threw herself into the arms of her mother, confessing that she had
made a discovery which totally altered her sentiments regarding the
prince. "Is it possible," added she, "that you have not perceived his
ears, of so unusual a size, and a deep red colour?"
"Is that all?" cried the queen. "In truth, I have not observed it; but
to take notice of an imperfection so very trifling, would make us
appear ridiculous indeed."
"People cannot help their feelings," replied Papillette; "I have quite
a horror of red ears; it is little worth while to be daughter of a
great king, if one must be crossed and thwarted in the most important
arrangement of life."
The queen reasoned long; but this only increased Papillette's
resistance: therefore, being quite defenceless against the tears of a
child so dear, her majesty promised to speak to the king.
Merinous was firm in all his resolutions; he therefore declared, that
his daughter should become the wife of Prince Favourite, whether she
liked it or not.
The queen had not courage to impart this dreadful intelligence; but
she threw herself on the generosity of the prince, beseeching that he
would himself break the engagement--thus shielding Papillette from the
resentment of the king.
The distracted lover was ready to die with grief: but promised to do
all she requested. He asked but three days' grace.
The queen consented; and Prince Favourite then summoned Queséca, chief
barber to the king, "Barber," said he, "each country has its
particular prejudices--its own ideas of beauty; here I find large ears
are deemed a deformity; therefore, I command thee to cut off mine."
"I cannot do it," replied the barber; "your royal highness has been
grossly deceived. I have the honour of shaving the first lords of the
court, and I know many of them whose ears are equally red and ten
times as long as those of your royal highness. These very lords are
amongst the most distinguished favourites of the king."
"I have summoned thee," replied the prince, "to operate and not to
prate; obey my orders, and inflame not my ears still further by thy
discourse."
"Alas!" said the barber, "since your royal highness means to sacrifice
them to an unreasonable caprice, what signifies it whether they are
inflamed or not?"
At these words the prince made a threatening gesture; and Queséca, no
longer daring to resist, took his razor, and with a trembling hand
separated two of the handsomest ears from one of the finest heads in
the world: for be it known, that the princess only made a pretext of
this assertion, because she had taken a fancy for somebody else.
The wound bled profusely: the prince applied healing balm; and when in
a condition to appear before her, enclosed his two ears in a little
box, rare and precious, and presented it to Papillette, his heart once
more filled with hope and love.
The princess eagerly opened the beautiful little casket, then dashed
it with horror to the ground. "Prince!" she cried, "what can have
induced you to mutilate yourself so cruelly? Could you imagine that I
would ever wed a man who submitted to lose his ears?"
"Madam," said the prince, in consternation, "it was by my own order
that--"
"What a fool you were then!" cried Papillette. "If you are not willing
to become the ridicule of the court, I advise you to quit it with the
greatest expedition imaginable."
The prince dared not call her cruel and ungrateful: he retired to the
thickest retreats of a forest, and soon after entirely lost his
reason.
The princess, once more free, confessed that amongst her numerous
suitors there was one whom she preferred; this was Prince Malabar,
whose martial mien announced the soul of a hero. The queen did not
deny that Malabar had sought her daughter's hand, even before
Favourite aspired to that honour, and King Merinous could now no
longer insist on a marriage with this unfortunate prince, since he was
quite insane, ran naked through the woods, sometimes believing himself
a hind, sometimes a wolf, and never stopping until exhausted by grief
and despair. But in consenting to the marriage of his daughter with
Prince Malabar, the king declared that, should she again change her
mind, he would never forgive her.
The happy day was once more fixed, and Papillette, three days
preceding, invited her lover to meet her in a delightful grove at the
extremity of the gardens. This grove was planted with myrtles, so
thick and high that they afforded a pleasant shade. Beautiful flowers
sprang up on all sides; and, added to the warblings of the birds in
the trees, were the voices of hidden musicians, singing a chorus,
composed by the princess herself. This, however, Malabar, who was a
soldier, and not a musician, and who naturally wished to have his
lady-love's society all to himself, did not sufficiently appreciate.
"Princess," said he, "I had much rather hear you talk than these
people sing."
"Are then those cares despised," replied Papillette, "which I have so
assiduously employed to amuse and gratify you by the display of my
talents?"
"Your dearest talent," cried he, "is that of pleasing: it comprises
every other. Send away these people, I pray." He added in a tone of
the utmost irritation: "I hate--I detest music!"
"Have I rightly heard?" exclaimed the princess angrily; "and do you
pretend to love, if your soul is insensible to such transporting
sounds?"
"I wish they would transport themselves far enough away," returned
the lover, who, like most other lovers, could be in an ill humour
sometimes. "My princess, do order this scraping and squalling to
cease."
"On the contrary, I order my musicians to remain," answered
Papillette, quite indignant, "and never, never will I unite myself to
him whom divine melody hath no power to move. Go, prince, barbarous
alike in taste and science, seek some rustic maid, best suited to your
insensibility."
The musicians, too far distant to hear these words, struck up a lively
tune. Malabar imagined this done in derision, and it required all his
respect for the princess to prevent him from falling on them sword in
hand. He repented much his words, but considered it beneath his
dignity to retract them; the princess also refused to retract hers: so
they parted.
Malabar resolved on instant death. Mounting the noblest courser in his
stable, he rode down to the sea-coast, and plunged him right over a
perpendicular cliff into the waters below.
The tide happened to be coming in, so that the body was soon washed on
shore, and brought before the eyes of the cruel princess, laid on a
litter formed of willow, hung with draperies of black crape.
She was standing at the window when the melancholy procession passed,
and inquired what it was. None dared answer; they only removed the
covering from the face of the corpse. She ottered a loud shriek, and
fainted away.
The king and queen lavished on her the most tender cares, but all in
vain: she declared that she regarded herself as an inconsolable widow,
and insisted upon putting on the deepest weeds.
King Merinous respected this caprice, and ordered twenty thousand
yards of crape for her use. She was just giving orders to have her
apartments festooned with it, and holding a cambric handkerchief to
her eyes, when a little green ape (a drawing-room favourite) dressed
itself in weepers, and disposed one of the widow's caps most
tastefully under its chin.
At this sight the princess burst out laughing so loudly and heartily,
that all the court ladies, who had been trying which could pull the
longest and most sympathetic countenance, were greatly relieved, and
began immediately to smile a little.
Gradually, they removed from her eyes the trappings of woe, and
substituted ribbons of rose-colour and blue of every shade and
variety: trying on these, so diverted Papillette's melancholy, that
the poor drowned prince was soon forgotten. Her tears indeed were
vain; he had already enough of water.
The king was in despair. "Alas!" said he to the queen, "we shall never
have the consolation of marrying Papillette, or beholding our
grandchildren. Of two monarchs so worthy of her, one has lost his
reason, the other has cast himself into the sea; and while we continue
to weep, she, already consoled, thinks only of diverting herself!"
"Sire," replied the queen, "calm your apprehensions. Our daughter is
yet too young to feel true love in all its fervour; let us have
patience, and seek alliance with none but those truly worthy of her
affections."
"Such is my wish," replied the king, "and I begin to turn my views
upon Prince Patipata; he has seen the portrait of Papillette, and is
satisfied; but, though a wise and noble monarch, his personal
qualifications are little in his favor."
"How so!" rejoined the queen.
"Because he is stiff, tall, and spare; his eyes bleared and filmy; his
hair red, and so scanty withal, that it seems like a few stripes of
blasted flax hung around a distaff."
A few days after this conversation, Prince Patipata arrived at court;
and the queen did not conceal from Papillette, that, notwithstanding
his personal disadvantages, he was intended for her spouse.
The princess laughed immoderately, yet, just for amusement, she
displayed towards him all the arts and graces of coquetry to
perfection.
Prince Patipata having been informed of the deplorable end of his
predecessors, concealed his love as carefully as the others had
proclaimed theirs. He was so reserved and cold, that the princess
longed exceedingly to discover the state of his feelings. Accordingly,
one day, while Patipata was walking with Salmoé, his intimate
confidant, she hid herself in the trunk of an old tree, which had been
hollowed out by lightning, and afforded apparently a secure retreat.
The prince seated himself at the foot of it, but he had observed the
princess; and, making a sign of intelligence to his companion, feigned
to continue a conversation of which she was the subject. "Assuredly,"
said he, "the princess is very handsome; but flatterers, poets, and
painters always overstep the truth. Her portrait has deceived me: its
large blue eyes bear assuredly some resemblance to those of
Papillette, but they bespeak an ardent and feeling heart, while hers
is frivolous, volatile, and incapable of love. Her smile would be
charming, but for its satirical irony. And what is the value of the
loveliest lips in the world, if they open but to deceive and betray!"
"I am much surprised," replied Salmoé; "I believed that your royal
highness was equally loving and beloved."
"Far from it," returned Patipata; "it would ill become me, plain as I
am, to be confident of pleasing; and I am not dupe enough to yield my
heart without return. Do not you approve of this?"
"No," answered Salmoé, "your royal highness is too modest; I cannot
sufficiently appreciate your humility."
The prince affected to be dissatisfied with this praise, and then
moved onwards in order to liberate Papillette, who was very
inconveniently cramped, and almost suffocated with anger. Disagreeable
truths seldom reach the ear of princesses; her resentment, therefore,
was to be expected. Meanwhile, her heart being equally capricious as
her understanding, she felt ready to pardon, and even, on reflection,
to justify Patipata. But pride soon combated this weakness; and she
determined to send him away. She complained to her father; assured
him, that by mere chance she had heard the most odious calumnies
uttered by a prince who sported with their dignity, by falsely
pretending to the hand of her whom he slighted and despised. The king
was surprised; but, not having entered into any positive engagements
with Patipata, he readily entered into her feelings, and intimated to
the prince that his adieus would be well received. This Patipata
expected; but, although not naturally presumptuous, he had read
sufficiently into the heart of Papillette to feel some degree of
consolation.
As no decisive explanation of any kind occurred, he was permitted to
take leave of the princess. This he did with much firmness; while she
appeared so much agitated, that it was remarked by all the court. The
men attributed this to hatred; but the ladies, who knew better,
pronounced it love. They were convinced of the fact, when day by day
she began to pine and refused to eat; and had not the chief cook every
day invented some new ragout, she would inevitably have died of
hunger.
The queen was in despair, and dispatched a billet to the Fairy of the
Fountain, fastening it to the tail of a little white mouse, which
served as a messenger on this occasion; it was perfectly acquainted
with the way, and in a few minutes the fairy arrived at the palace.
The late events were mentioned to her, and the melancholy situation of
the princess.
"I understand this case," said the fairy; "but it is necessary that
Papillette should give me her confidence."
The fairy was so amiable and so much beloved by the princess, that she
easily yielded; and casting down her eyes, confessed that she loved
one who regarded her with contemptuous indifference; and what rendered
her choice still more degrading was, its object being equally ugly as
insensible.
"I am then to understand," replied the fairy, "that you wish to be
cured of this unfortunate passion?"
"Alas, no!" rejoined Papillette, "for my only pleasure is in thinking
of him, speaking to him as if he could hear, and persuading myself
that, notwithstanding appearances, he could have loved me, had he
believed my heart capable of steady affections. I shall therefore die,
leaving him alike ignorant of my regrets and my repentance."
"I would not advise you to die," said the fairy "that is the only evil
in the world without a remedy. But, my dear Papillette, what can I do
to console you?"
"Let me see the prince once more, under some metamorphose in which it
is impossible for him to recognise me."
"Very well," replied the fairy. "But since you wish to risk it, and
that a simple butterfly can scarcely compromise her dignity in
following a king, under this form I shall transport you to his court."
So saying, the Fairy of the Fountain placed on her finger a little
emerald ring, and the princess distinctly felt her arms change their
shape--expand--become flexible, and form two light wings, clothed in
the most brilliant colours. Her little feet quitted the earth, and as
the window was open, she flew out, traversing the air, with a degree
of rapidity which at first caused some sensations of fear. But soon
the eager desire of seeing Patipata urged her forward, although
natural instinct so far prevailed, as to cause frequent descents to
earth, where she rested on every tempting flower.
At length, entering the prince's gardens, she beheld him walking on a
terrace watering a beautiful orange-tree. Her heart beat so violently,
that her first emotion was to hide, but, soon recovering
self-possession, she flew forwards and rested on a branch which he had
just gathered.
"What a charming butterfly!" observed the king to his chief gardener.
"Its colours are truly exquisite; I never recollect having seen any
such before."
"Some new species, come to do mischief, I suppose," said the gardener,
preparing to brush it rudely away. But it took refuge on the bosom of
the king, with such caressing and tender familiarity, that only a hard
heart could have done it injury.
"Ah, little traitor!" cried Patipata, "thou wishest to win me by thy
fleeting charms, and then escape for ever. I already know too well the
pain of loving fickle beings such as thou. Yet still I must defend
thee, and permit thy return to my orange-tree as often as thou
desirest."
Papillette easily penetrated the thoughts of the prince, and although
they uttered a reproach for her inconstancy, she fancied they also
breathed the language of love; and returned in better spirits than
usual to her father's palace, where her absence had been unobserved.
From thenceforward she never omitted making use of the emerald ring,
which transported her in a few moments to her royal lover: she
followed him to his palace, saw him give audiences, preside in
council, and everywhere prove himself just, great, generous, and
worthy of all her affection. It is true that his eyes were still
filmy, his body spare, and his hair as red as ever; but what signifies
an outside casket when containing a priceless jewel within?
Patipata was determined against marriage; he therefore adopted as heir
to the crown the son of a cousin, a young orphan, whom he purposed
bringing up beneath his own eye. This prince little resembled his
uncle: he had been much spoiled in infancy, and it was impossible to
improve him. One day, while conversing with Patipata, "Sire," said he,
"I have a favour to ask your majesty, and I pray you not to refuse
me."
"I shall willingly grant you anything reasonable," replied the king.
"It is but your beautiful rose-coloured butterfly, which follows you
everywhere."
"And if I were to give it to you, what then?"
"I would run this golden pin through its body, and stick it to a
branch of the orange-tree, to see how long it would live. Oh, nothing
could be more amusing!"
"Nothing could be more barbarous!" answered Patipata indignantly. "Go,
you inspire me with horror; I banish you from my presence during three
entire days, and remember, that if my butterfly should receive any
injury, you shall be punished with unexampled severity!"
The poor butterfly, who had heard this discourse, knew not how to
express its gratitude and joy; it flapped its wings, and sported
around its benefactor. The king held out his finger, and it rested
there. "Thou shalt quit me no more," said he. "It is so sweet to be
loved, even by a butterfly, that I would not willingly prove myself
ungrateful: thou shalt feed at my table; I will serve thee with the
finest fruits, the fairest flowers. Ah! if I can only make thee
happy!"
On the following day, Patipata went out hunting. In vain Papillette
sought him in the park, in the garden, and near the favourite
orange-tree. But his nephew, taking advantage of his absence, began
chasing the pretty butterfly. The courtiers knew that he would one day
be in power, and, eager to gratify his whims, assisted in the wanton
sport: ministers the most pompous, members of council the most
profound, climbed on trees, and capered through the meadows,--one
would have supposed them mad. But the royal insect, so familiar with
the king, was for all others the most capricious of butterflies. It
amused itself in leading the court a long chase, and at length rested
in the private cabinet of the king, where they never once thought of
seeking it.
Papillette, now all alone, could not resist the opportunity afforded
of looking over a great quantity of writing which lay on the bureau.
What was her surprise and joy, on there finding verses, the most
passionate and tender, which Patipata had written in her praise! They
indeed revealed that he was proud, and would not risk a second
refusal; but they vowed to remain faithful to her, and never to wed
another.
The princess was so affected, that two little tiny tears stood in her
butterfly-eyes. Well indeed she might shed them, for at this moment,
the wicked little prince, her enemy, came behind, and seizing her by
her two lovely wings, popped her into his hat.
"Now I have you!" cried he; and it is impossible to say what would
have happened, had not the king opportunely returned; when, in taking
off his hat to his uncle, he let the butterfly go.
She, recovering from her fright, testified affection by many little
endearments; and Patipata, now accustomed to speak to her, exclaimed:
"Beautiful insect, how happy art thou!--thou wanderest from flower to
flower, without giving the preference to any--thou knowest not
love--thou hast not found ingratitude! I, a king, can not boast of
such happiness. I adore the lovely Princess Papillette, and am
dismissed from her court. I am ugly, it is true; but were I ever so
handsome, I should not be more fortunate, for I too well know her
fickle--"
The butterfly here sighed so deeply, that the king started.
"Is it possible thou canst feel?" said he. "Oh, if my princess had but
as much sensibility, I would know no other care! With her I would live
in a hut, far, far from the deceitful splendour of a throne."
"The Princess Papillette would willingly accompany you," said a little
voice, in tones of the finest and purest melody: and the butterfly's
rosy wings blushed deep as crimson.
"What a prodigy!" cried Patipata. "Ah! butterfly, what dost thou know
of my Papillette?"
"Suppose it were herself!" said a voice, which seemed to proceed from
a little fountain of rock-crystal which stood between the windows.
The prince turned round; but instead of the butterfly, he beheld the
Fairy of the Fountain, holding the fair Papillette by the hand. They
were both encircled by a light rose-coloured cloud, which shed a
softly brilliant light around the apartment.
Patipata bent one knee to the earth, and kissed the hem of the
princess's garment.
"Come, prince," said the fairy, "King Merinous is apprised of what
passes here. Papillette has overcome her evil destiny. Her affections
are fixed and sure; and their object is yourself And however ready
you may both be to live in a hut together, I advise you not to do it.
Love is sweeter than royalty, no doubt, but it is not impossible to
unite both."
The lovers, transported with joy, placed their feet on the
rose-colored cloud, which instantly carried them to the palace of the
king. The Fairy of the Fountain, to complete her benefactions,
rendered Patipata as handsome as he was amiable, and the nuptials were
celebrated with suitable pomp and festivity. We are informed that
Papillette had, at first, some slight returns of her natural
disposition; but in one year she became a mother, and from
thenceforward never knew frivolity more.
THE FROG-PRINCE.
In times of yore, when wishes were both heard and granted, lived a
king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so
lovely that the sun himself, who has seen so much, wondered at her
beauty every time he looked in her face. Now, near the king's castle
was a large dark forest; and in the forest, under an old linden-tree,
was a deep well. When the day was very hot, the king's daughter used
to go to the wood and seat herself at the edge of the cool well; and
when she became wearied, she would take a golden ball, throw it up in
the air, and catch it again. This was her favourite amusement. Once it
happened that her golden ball, instead of falling back into the little
hand that she stretched out for it, dropped on the ground, and
immediately rolled away into the water. The king's daughter followed
it with her eyes, but the ball had vanished, and the well was so deep
that no one could see down to the bottom. Then she began to weep, wept
louder and louder every minute, and could not console herself at all.
While she was thus lamenting some one called to her: "What is the
matter with you, king's daughter? You weep so, that you would touch
the heart of a stone."
She looked around to see whence the voice came, and saw a frog
stretching his thick ugly head out of the water.
"Ah! it is you, old water-paddler!" said she. "I am crying for my
golden ball, which has fallen into the well."
"Be content," answered the frog, "I daresay I can give you some good
advice; but what will you give me if I bring back your plaything to
you?"
"Whatever you like, dear frog," said she, "my clothes, my pearls and
jewels, even the golden crown I wear."
The frog answered, "Your clothes, your pearls and jewels, even your
golden crown, I do not care for; but if you will love me, and let me
be your companion and playfellow; sit near you at your little table,
eat from your little golden plate, drink from your little cup, and
sleep in your little bed;--if you will promise me this, then I will
bring you back your golden ball from the bottom of the well."