CHRISTMAS CLASSICS: 150+ Novels, Stories & Poems (Illustrated Edition). Гарриет Бичер-Стоу

so pure and transparent that through them he could see Soussio and Truitonne in conversation together. He thought he must be dreaming. "How," said he, "have I been betrayed? Have some demons brought hither this enemy of our peace? Comes she to disturb our nuptials? My dear Florine does not appear! Her father has perhaps pursued her!" He began to be the prey of a thousand distracting conjectures. But matters looked still worse, when entering the saloon, Soussio, addressing him in an authoritative tone, said, "King Charmant, here is the Princess Truitonne, to whom you have plighted your troth; she is my god-daughter, and I desire you will marry her immediately." "I!" exclaimed he,—"I marry that little monster! You must think me a vastly tractable person to make such a proposition to me. I have made no promise to her whatever, and if she have told you otherwise, she has——" "Hold," interrupted Soussio, "and be not rash enough to fail in respect towards me!" "I agree," replied the king, "to respect you as much as a Fairy can be respected, provided you restore to me my princess." "Am not I your princess, faithless one?" said Truitonne, showing him his ring. "To whom didst thou give this ring as a pledge of thy truth? With whom didst thou converse at the little window if not with me?" "How then!" he cried, "have I been deceived and imposed upon?" "But no, no, I will not be your dupe! What ho! What ho! my frogs! my frogs! I would away instantly!" "Oho, it is not in your power without my consent," exclaimed Soussio. She touched him, and his feet were fastened to the floor as if they had been nailed to it. "You may stone me to death, you may flay me alive," cried the king, "but I will marry no one but Florine. I am resolved. You may therefore exercise your power upon me as you please!" Soussio tried in turn mildness, menaces, promises, prayers. Truitonne wept, shrieked, groaned, stormed, and became calm again. The king uttered not another word, looking on them both with an air of the greatest indignation; he made not the slightest answer to anything they said to him.

      Twenty days and twenty nights passed without their ceasing to talk; without eating, sleeping, or sitting down. At length Soussio, quite tired and out of patience, said to the king, "Well, since you are so obstinate that you will not listen to reason, choose at once whether you will marry my god-daughter, or do penance for seven years as a punishment for breaking your word." The king, who up to this time had been perfectly silent, suddenly exclaimed, "Do what you will with me, provided I am freed from this wretch." "You are a wretch yourself," said Truitonne, in a passion. "A petty king like you, with your marsh-bred posters, to come into my country to break your word to me and insult me! Had you a groat's worth of honour in you, could you behave in this manner?" "What affecting reproaches!" said the king, in an ironical tone; "Behold what a mistake it is not to take so lovely a person for one's wife!" "No, no, she shall not be your wife," screamed Soussio, passionately; "you may fly out of that window if you like, for you shall be a Blue Bird for the next seven years!" At the same moment the king's person undergoes a total change; his arms are covered with feathers and form wings; his legs and feet become black and diminutive, and furnished with crooked talons; his body shrinks,—it is all garnished with long fine thin feathers of celestial blue; his eyes become rounder, and bright as two stars; his nose is but an ivory beak; a white crest rises on his head in the form of a crown; he sings and talks to perfection. In this state, uttering a cry of anguish at beholding himself so metamorphosed, he flies from the fatal palace of Soussio as fast as his wings can carry him.

      Overwhelmed with grief, he roams from branch to branch, selecting only the trees consecrated to love or sorrow. Now upon myrtles, now upon cypresses, he sings the most plaintive airs, in which he deplores his sad fate and that of Florine. "Where have her enemies hidden her?" said he. "What has become of that beautiful victim? Has the queen's barbarity permitted her still to breathe? Where shall I seek her? Am I condemned to pass seven years without her? Perhaps during that period they will compel her to marry, and I shall lose for ever the hope on which alone I live." These various reflections afflicted the Blue Bird to such a degree that he would have welcomed death.

      On the other hand, the Fairy Soussio sent Truitonne back to the queen, who was anxiously waiting to know how the nuptials had gone off. When she saw her daughter, and heard from her lips all that had happened, she put herself in a terrible passion, which recoiled upon the poor Florine. "She shall repent more than once," said the queen, "her fascination of Charmant!" She ascended the tower, with Truitonne, whom she had dressed in her richest clothes, with a crown of diamonds on her head, a royal mantle, the train of which was borne by three daughters of the richest barons in the realm, and on her thumb King Charmant's ring, which Florine had noticed the day they conversed together. Florine was greatly surprised to see Truitonne in such pompous apparel. "My daughter has come to bring you a wedding present," said the queen. "King Charmant has espoused her; he loves her to distraction; never has there been such a happy couple." Thereupon they displayed to the princess heaps of gold and silver tissues, jewels, lace, and ribbons, contained in large baskets of gold filigree work. In presenting these objects, Truitonne took care Florine should see King Charmant's brilliant ring, so that not being able to doubt her misfortune, she told them, with an air of desperation, to take from her sight such fatal gifts, that she would wear nothing but black, and, indeed, that she should soon be dead. So saying, she fainted, and the cruel queen, delighted to have succeeded so well, would not permit any one to assist her; but left her alone in the most wretched state imaginable, and went and maliciously reported to the king that his daughter was so madly in love, that nothing could equal the extravagancies she committed, and that great care should be taken to prevent her quitting the tower. The king told her to manage the matter exactly as she pleased, and that he should be perfectly satisfied.

      When the princess recovered from her swoon, and began to reflect on the conduct they had pursued towards her, on the ill-treatment of her wicked stepmother, and the utter extinction of her hope one day to become the wife of King Charmant, her anguish became so keen that she wept the whole night long. In this wretched condition she sat at an open window uttering the most tender and touching lamentations. When day began to break she shut the window, but continued to weep. The following night she again opened the window, sobbing and sighing profoundly, and shedding a torrent of tears. Morning dawned, and she hid herself in the recesses of her chamber. In the meanwhile King Charmant, or, to speak more correctly, the beautiful Blue Bird, never ceased flying round the palace. He believed his dear princess was confined in it, and if her lamentations were distressing, his were no less so. He approached the windows as near as he could in order to look into the apartments; but the dread of being perceived and recognised by Truitonne prevented his doing exactly as he wished. "It would cost me my life," said he to himself. "Should these wicked princesses discover where I am they would be revenged upon me; I must keep aloof, or be exposed to the utmost peril." For these reasons he took the greatest precautions, and rarely sang except during the night. There happened to be an excessively lofty cypress immediately in front of the window at which Florine usually sat. The Blue Bird perched upon it, and had scarcely done so when he heard some one complaining. "How much longer shall I suffer?" said the mourner; "will not death kindly come to my aid? Those who fear him see him too soon—I long for his coming, and he cruelly flies me.—Oh, barbarous queen! what have I done to thee that thou shouldst detain me in this horrible captivity? Hast thou not ways enough to torment me? Thou hast only to make me witness of the happiness thy unworthy daughter enjoys in the society of King Charmant!" The Blue Bird had not lost one syllable of this complaint. He was so surprised that he awaited daylight with the greatest impatience in order to behold the afflicted lady, but before the morning dawned she had closed her window and retired. The Bird, whose curiosity was awakened, failed not to return the following night. It was moonlight, and he saw a girl at a window of the tower, who commenced her lamentations. "O Fortune!" she exclaimed; "thou who flatteredst me with the prospect of reigning; thou who hadst restored to me a father's love; what have I done to deserve being plunged thus suddenly into the bitterest grief? Is it at so early an age as mine that mortals begin to experience thy inconstancy? Return, thou cruel one; return, if possible! The only favour I implore of thee is to end my unhappy fate!" The Blue Bird listened attentively, and the more he did so, the more convinced he became that it was his amiable princess who was thus bewailing. "Adorable Florine," he cried, "wonder of our days, why do you desire so speedily to terminate your own? Your misfortunes are not without remedy!" "Ah! who speaks to me," cried she, "in such consoling language?" "An unfortunate king," replied the Bird, "who loves you, and will never love any other than you." "A king who loves me!" rejoined Florine; "is this a snare set for me by my enemy? But after all, what would she gain by it? If she seeks