honour, but, as they had been ordered by the queen, they said all the ill of her they could imagine:—that she was coquettish, inconstant, ill-tempered; that she tormented her friends and her servants; that it was impossible for any one to be more slovenly; and that she was so avaricious, that she would much rather be dressed like a poor shepherdess than spend the money allowed her by the king her father in the purchase of rich apparel befitting her rank. During all these details Charmant was suffering tortures, and could scarcely restrain his anger. "No," he argued to himself; "it is impossible that Heaven would permit so worthless a soul to inhabit the master-piece of Nature. I admit she "was badly dressed when I first saw her, but the shame she evinced proves that she was not accustomed to be so. What! Can she be ill-tempered and coquettish, with such an enchanting air of mildness and modesty? It is not reconcilable with common sense! I can much more easily imagine that the queen has caused her to be so slandered. She is only her stepmother, and the Princess Truitonne, her own daughter, is such an ugly creature, that it would not be extraordinary if she were envious of the most perfect of human beings."
Whilst he thus reasoned with himself the courtiers about him readily imagined, from his manner, that he was not best pleased by their abuse of Florine. One, who was more astute than the rest, in order to discover the real sentiments of the prince, changed his tone and language, and began to extol the princess wonderfully. At the first words, Charmant woke up as from a deep sleep. He entered eagerly into the conversation. His features all lighted up with joy.—O Love! Love! how hard thou art to hide! thou art visible everywhere!—on a lover's lips, in his eyes, in the tone of his voice,—when we truly love, silence, conversation, happiness, or misery, are equally demonstrative of the passion which absorbs us.
The queen, impatient to learn if King Charmant was much smitten, sent for those whom she had placed in positions to acquire his confidence, and passed the rest of the night in their interrogation. Everything they reported only served to confirm the opinion she had formed that the king was in love with Florine. But how shall I describe to you the melancholy state of that poor princess? She lay stretched on the floor in the keep of that terrible tower to which the masked ruffians had carried her. "I should be less to be pitied," said she, "if I had been immured here before I had seen that amiable monarch. The recollection of him I cherish only serves to increase my distress. I cannot doubt, but that it is to prevent my seeing him again that the queen has treated me thus cruelly. Alas, how fatal to my peace has been the little beauty it has pleased Heaven to bestow on me!" She then began to weep bitterly, so bitterly that her worst enemy would have pitied her if a witness of her affliction. Thus passed the night.
The queen, who was anxious to win over King Charmant by every attention it was in her power to pay him, sent him presents of the most costly and magnificent dresses, made in the newest fashion of that country, and the Order of the Knights of Cupid, which she had compelled the king her husband to institute the day they were married, in honour of their nuptials. The badge of it was a golden heart, enamelled flame-coloured, surrounded by several arrows, and pierced with one, with the words, "One alone wounds me." The queen had, however, for Charmant a heart cut out of a ruby, as large as an ostrich's egg; each arrow was made of a single diamond about the length of a finger, and the chain to which the badge was appended was composed of pearls, the smallest of which weighed a full pound. In short, ever since the world has been a world, there was never anything like it. Charmant, at the sight of it, was so astonished that it was some time before he spoke a word. In the meanwhile they presented to him a book, the leaves of which were of the finest vellum, beautifully illuminated, and the binding covered with gold and jewels. In it the statutes of the Order of the Knights of Cupid were written in a gallant and tender style. They told him that the princess he had seen, prayed him to be her knight, and had sent him this present. At these words he flattered himself that it came from her he loved. "How! does the lovely Princess Florine," cried he, "honour me by this splendid and flattering mark of her consideration?" "Sire," they replied, "you mistake the name; we come from the amiable Truitonne." "Truitonne! is it she who would have me be her champion?" said the king with a cold and serious air; "I regret that I cannot accept the honour; but a sovereign is not sufficiently his own master to enter into any engagements he pleases. I know the duties of a knight, and would fain fulfil them all. I would, therefore, prefer foregoing the favour she designs me, to proving myself unworthy of it." At the same time he replaced in the same corbeille,2 the heart, the chain, and the book, and sent them all back to the queen, who, with her daughter, was ready to choke with rage at the contemptuous manner in which the illustrious foreigner had declined so especial a favour. King Charmant visited the king and queen as often as he was permitted the opportunity, in hopes of meeting Florine in the royal apartments. His eyes were everywhere in search of her. The moment he heard any one enter the room he turned sharply round towards the door, and seemed always restless and unhappy. The malicious queen easily guessed what was passing in his mind; but she appeared to take no notice of it. She talked to him only about parties of pleasure; and he returned her the most incongruous answers. At last he asked her plainly, where was the Princess Florine? "Sir," replied the queen, haughtily, "the king her father has forbidden her to quit her own apartments until my daughter is married." "And what motive," inquired King Charmant, "can there be for making such a prisoner of that beautiful princess?" "I know not," said the queen, "and if I did, I should not consider myself bound to inform you."
Charmant felt his anger rising fearfully; he cast an angry glance upon Truitonne, assuring himself in his own mind that little monster was the cause of his being deprived of the pleasure of beholding Florine, and abruptly quitted the queen's presence, which gave him too much pain.
On his return to his own apartments, he requested a young prince who had accompanied him, and to whom he was much attached, to gain over, at any cost, one of the princess's attendants, in order that he might speak to Florine for one moment. The prince soon found some of the ladies of the palace, whom he could venture to admit into his confidence, and one of them promised him that Florine should that very evening be at a little lower window, which looked upon the garden, and from whence she could converse with Charmant provided he was exceedingly careful that no one should be aware of it; "for," added she, "the king and queen are so severe, that they will take my life if they discover I have favoured the passion of Charmant." The prince, delighted that he had so far succeeded in his mission, promised her anything she could desire, and ran to pay his court to his royal master, by announcing to him the hour of assignation; but the false confidante in the meantime went and told the queen what had occurred, and requested to know her commands. She immediately decided to place her daughter at the little window. She gave her particular instructions, and Truitonne attended to them all, notwithstanding her natural stupidity.
The night was so dark it was impossible for King Charmant to discover the imposition, even had he been less confident, so that when he drew near to the window indescribably transported with joy, he poured forth to Truitonne all the tender things he would have said to Florine, to convince her of his affection. Truitonne, profiting by the occasion, told him that she felt she was the most unfortunate person in the world, in having so cruel a stepmother; and that she should never cease to suffer all sorts of annoyances till the queen's daughter was married. Charmant assured her, that if she would accept him for her husband, he should be enchanted to share with her his heart and crown; and thereupon he drew his ring from his finger, and placing it on one of Truitonne's, he begged her to receive it as a token of eternal fidelity, and added that she had only to fix the hour for their flight. Truitonne made the best answers she could to his urgent persuasions. He noticed they were not very sensible, and the circumstance would have given him some uneasiness but that he thought it arose from the terror she was in of being surprised by the queen. He left her only on condition that she would meet him again the next night at the same hour, which she promised faithfully to do.
The queen having heard of the happy success of this interview, felt satisfied she should obtain her ends completely. Accordingly, the day being fixed for the elopement, King Charmant prepared to carry off his beloved in a flying chariot, drawn by winged frogs, a present which had been made to him by a friend who was an enchanter. The night was excessively dark, Truitonne stole out mysteriously by a little door, and the king, who was waiting for her, received her in his arms with a hundred vows of everlasting affection. But as he was not anxious to be sailing about in his flying chariot for any long time before he married his beloved princess,