love and confidence—I suffered for thee, and suffered without complaining; and thou hast sacrificed me to the most cruel of women, our common enemy! Thou hast made thy peace with her at the price of my life! It is thou, Florine,—thou, who hast stabbed me! Thou hast borrowed the hand of Truitonne, and guided it to my bosom!" This fatal idea overwhelmed him, and he resolved to die.
But his friend the Enchanter, who had seen the flying frogs return with the car, but without the king, was so troubled to think what had become of him, that he went eight times round the world in search of him. He was on a ninth journey for the same purpose, when, in passing through the wood in which the poor king was lying, he, according to his usual custom, blew a long blast on his horn, and then cried five times, in a loud voice, "King Charmant!—King Charmant! where art thou?" The king recognised the voice of his best friend. "Approach," he cried, "this tree, and behold the wretched king you love, bathed in his blood!" The Enchanter, much surprised, looked about him everywhere, without seeing any one. "I am a Blue Bird," exclaimed the king, in a feeble and plaintive voice. At these words the Enchanter found him, without more trouble, in his little nest. Another person might have been more astonished, but he was versed in every portion of the necromantic art. It cost him but a few words to stanch the blood which was fast flowing; and with some herbs he found in the wood, and over which he muttered a short spell, he cured the king as perfectly as if he had never been wounded.
He then begged he would inform him through what adventure he had become a bird, and who had wounded him so cruelly. The king satisfied his curiosity, and told him that it must have been Florine who had revealed the amorous mystery of the secret visits he paid her, and who, to make her peace with the queen, had consented to have the cypress-tree filled with the daggers and razors which had hacked him almost to pieces. He exclaimed a thousand times against the treachery of the princess, and said he should have been happy if he had died before he had known the wickedness of her heart. The Magician inveighed against her, and against all the sex: he advised the king to forget her. "What a misfortune it would be," said he, "if you could continue to love the ungrateful girl! After what she has been guilty of towards you, one has everything to fear from her." The Blue Bird could not remain long of that opinion; he still loved Florine too dearly: and the Enchanter, who knew his real sentiments, notwithstanding the pains he took to conceal them, said to him gaily,—
Crush'd by Fortune's cruel blow,
Vainly Reason's voice is heard;
We but listen to our woe,
Deaf to sage or soothing word.
Leave old Time his work to do;
All things have their sunny side;
But till he turns it to our view,
Nought but darkness is descried."
The Royal Bird admitted the truth of the remark, and begged his friend to take him home and to put him in a cage, where he would be safe from a cat's paw, or any murderous weapon. "But," said the Enchanter, "will you still remain five years in a condition so deplorable, and so little suited to your duties and your dignity? For, remember, you have enemies who assert that you are dead. They would seize your kingdom. I much fear you will lose it before you regain your proper form." "Can I not," asked the king, "enter my palace, and govern as I used to do?" "Oh," exclaimed his friend, "the case is altered! Those who would obey a man, will not bow to a parrot: those who feared you while a king, surrounded by grandeur and pomp, would be the first to pluck out all your feathers, now you are a little bird." "Alas, for human weakness!" cried the king. "Although a brilliant exterior is as nothing compared to merit and virtue, it still possesses a power over the minds of men which it is difficult to combat. Well," continued he, "let us be philosophers, and despise that which we cannot obtain: our lot will be none the worse for it." "I do not give up a point so easily," said the Magician; "I still hope "to hit upon some means for your restoration."
Florine,—the wretched Florine,—in despair at no longer seeing the king, passed her days and nights at the window, repeating unceasingly,—
Bird as blue as cloudless sky,
Hither, hither quickly fly!"
The presence of her watchful attendant did not prevent her; her despair was so great that she was careless of consequences. "What has become of you, King Charmant?" she cried. "Have our mutual enemies caused you to feel the cruel effects of their rage? Have you fallen a sacrifice to their fury? Alas, alas! are you no more? Shall I never again behold you? or, weary of my woes, have you abandoned me to my hard fate?" What tears, what sobs followed these tender complaints! How did the absence of so dear and so amiable a lover lengthen the dreary hours of her captivity! The princess, oppressed, ill, thin, and sadly altered, could scarcely sustain herself; she felt convinced that everything most fatal had occurred to the king.
The queen and Truitonne triumphed. Their revenge gave them more pleasure than the offence had caused them annoyance. And what was this offence, after all? King Charmant had refused to marry a little monster he had a thousand reasons to hate. In the meantime Florine's father, who had reached a considerable age, fell ill and died. The fortunes of the wicked queen and her daughter assumed a new aspect. They were looked upon as favourites, who had abused their influence. The people rose, and ran in a body to the palace, demanding the Princess Florine, whom alone they would recognise as their sovereign. The enraged queen endeavoured to carry matters with a high hand; she appeared in a balcony, and threatened the insurgents. The revolt became general; they broke into her apartments, pillaged them, and stoned her to death! Truitonne fled for protection to her godmother, the Fairy Soussio, or she would have shared the fate of her mother. The grandees of the kingdom met immediately, and ascended the tower, where the princess was lying very ill. She knew neither of the death of her father, nor of the punishment of her enemy. When she heard the noise of persons approaching, she had no doubt but that they were coming to lead her to death. She was not in the least alarmed, for life had become hateful to her since she had lost the Blue Bird. Her subjects, flinging themselves at her feet, informed her of the happy change in her fortunes. She was quite indifferent to it. They carried her to the palace and crowned her. The great care that was taken of her health, and her own desire to seek out the Blue Bird, combined to restore her, and she was soon enabled to nominate a council to govern the kingdom during her absence. She then provided herself with jewels to the value of a thousand millions of francs, and set out on her journey one night quite alone, without any one's knowing whither she was gone. The Enchanter, who managed the affairs of King Charmant, not having sufficient power to undo what Soussio had done, decided upon seeking her and proposing some arrangement, under favour of which she would restore the king to his natural form. He ordered out his frogs and flew to the Fairy, who was at that moment in conversation with Truitonne. Enchanters and fairies are on an equal footing. These two had known each other for five or six hundred years, and during that time had quarrelled and made it up again a thousand times at least. She received him very politely. "What would my Gossip?" said she, (it is thus they all address one another.) "Is there anything in my power that I can do for him?" "Yes, Gossip," answered the Magician, "you can do everything I desire: it concerns one of my best friends, a king whom you have made very unhappy." "Aha! I understand you, Gossip!" cried Soussio. "I'm very sorry, but he has no mercy to hope for, unless he consent to marry my god-daughter. There she is in all her beauty, as you may see. Let him consider of it."
The Enchanter was almost struck dumb at the sight of her, so hideous did she appear to him; nevertheless, he could not resolve to leave, without coming to something like an agreement with Soussio, for the king had run a thousand risks since he had lived in a cage. The nail on which the cage had been suspended had broken, and the cage, of course, had fallen to the ground with a severe shock to his feathered majesty. Minet, the cat, who happened to be in the room when this accident happened, gave the poor king a scratch on the eye, which nearly deprived him of the sight of it. On another occasion, they had neglected to give him any fresh water, and he barely escaped having the pip. A little rogue of a monkey, who had got loose, caught hold of some of his feathers through the bars of the cage, and spared him as little as he would have done a jay or a blackbird. But the worst of all was, that he was on the point of losing his kingdom. His heirs were daily trumping up some stories to prove he was dead. So, finally, the Enchanter came to an understanding with his gossip Soussio, that she should bring Truitonne to King