He found her arrayed in a light robe of white taffety, which she wore beneath her coarse disguise, her beautiful hair falling about her shoulders. She was lying on a couch, and a lamp at some distance shed on the scene but a feeble light. The king entered suddenly, and his love getting the better of his anger, the moment he recognised her he flung himself at her feet, bathed her hands with his tears, and felt ready to die with joy, grief, and the thousand different thoughts that rushed at once into his mind.
The queen was not less moved. Her heart seemed to stop beating; she could scarcely breathe. She looked earnestly at the king without saying a word, and when she found strength to speak to him, she had no power to reproach him; the joy of beholding him again made her forget, for the time, the cause of complaint she imagined she had against him. At length, they mutually explained, and justified themselves. Their affection revived stronger than ever, and all that embarrassed them was the Fairy Soussio. But at this moment the Enchanter, who was so fond of the king, arrived with a famous Fairy, no other than she who gave the four eggs to Florine. After the first compliments had passed between them, the Enchanter and the Fairy declared that their power being united in favour of the king and queen, Soussio could do nothing against them, and that consequently their marriage would take place without delay.
We may readily imagine the delight of these two young lovers. As soon as it was day the news was spread throughout the palace, and everybody was enchanted to see Florine. The tidings reached Truitonne. She ran to the king's apartments. What was her surprise to find there her beautiful rival! The moment she attempted to open her mouth to abuse her, the Enchanter and the Fairy appeared, and changed her into a sow, which being called Truye, in French, she still retained part of her name, and her natural disposition to grumble. She ran out of the room grunting, and thence into the kitchen court-yard, where the long peals of laughter with which she was received, completed her despair.
King Charmant and Queen Florine, delivered from so odious a person, now thought only of the nuptial fête, the taste and magnificence of which were equally conspicuous.
It is easy to conceive how great was their happiness after passing through such prolonged misfortunes.
When Truitonne would have forced that monarch charming
To tie a knot which death alone could sunder,
Regardless of the consequence alarming,
She certainly committed a great blunder.
'Tis possible she did not know, a marriage
Unblest by mutual love is wretched slavery.
But Charmant's bold, uncompromising carriage,
Showed as much prudence, I conceive, as bravery.
Better to be a bird of any hue—
A raven, crow, an owl—I do protest,
Than tie yourself for life a partner to,
Who either scorns you, or whom you detest.
Too many matches of this sort I've seen,
And wish that now there were some kind magician
To step such ill-assorted souls between,
With power to enforce his prohibition,
Vigilant ever to forbid the banns
Where selfish feelings true affection slighted,
And ne'er allowing Hymen to join hands,
When hearts had not been first by Love united.
Footnotes:
1 Truite, in French.
2 A highly-ornamented and richly-lined basket, in which presents of honour are still on some occasions conveyed. The corbeille de mariage, in France, contains the jewellery and other gifts presented to a bride.
3 The fairs of St. Germain and St. Laurent were two of the principal fairs in Paris, and their theatres and puppet-shows were much frequented. To the "Théâtre de la Foire" we are indebted for the French "Opera Comique," and the creation of those charming "Folies Dramatiques," which I have attempted to imitate in my extravaganzas. The principal puppet-show was that of Brioché, who is said to have been the inventor of "Les Marionettes." He is mentioned by Boileau in his Seventh Epistle: "Non loin de la place où Brioché préside," which was in the Rue Mazarine. It is of him Leander, in the next story (Prince Sprite) buys the monkeys (vide p. 91). The name of Leance does not occur in the earliest list of dancers I have seen, or amongst those mentioned by the Marquis de Dangeau in his Diary; I am therefore in doubt whether Madame d'Aulnoy alludes to a celebrated ballet-dancer or an equally popular puppet. The saraband was a dance introduced into Spain by the Moors. The jig, from the Teutonic gieg, a fiddle, though of English invention, was adopted in most European nations.
Christmas Every Day
(William Dean Howells)
The little girl came into her papa's study, as she always did Saturday morning before breakfast, and asked for a story. He tried to beg off that morning, for he was very busy, but she would not let him. So he began:
“Well, once there was a little pig—”
She put her hand over his mouth and stopped him at the word. She said she had heard little pig-stories till she was perfectly sick of them.
“Well, what kind of story shall I tell, then?”
“About Christmas. It's getting to be the season. It's past Thanksgiving already.”
“It seems to me,” her papa argued, “that I've told as often about Christmas as I have about little pigs.”
“No difference! Christmas is more interesting.”
“Well!” Her papa roused himself from his writing by a great effort. “Well, then, I'll tell you about the little girl that wanted it Christmas every day in the year. How would you like that?”
“First-rate!” said the little girl; and she nestled into comfortable shape in his lap, ready for listening.
“Very well, then, this little pig—Oh, what are you pounding me for?”
“Because you said little pig instead of little girl.”
“I should like to know what's the difference between a little pig and a little girl that wanted it Christmas every day!”
“Papa,” said the little girl, warningly, “if you don't go on, I'll give it to you!” And at this her papa darted off like lightning, and began to tell the story as fast as he could.
Well, once there was a little girl who liked Christmas so much that she wanted it to be Christmas every day in the year; and as soon as Thanksgiving was over she began to send postal-cards to the old Christmas Fairy to ask if she mightn't have it. But the old fairy never answered any of the postals; and after a while the little girl found out that the Fairy was pretty particular, and wouldn't notice anything but letters—not even correspondence cards in envelopes; but real letters on sheets of paper, and sealed outside with a monogram—or your initial, anyway. So, then, she began to send her letters; and in about three weeks—or just the day before Christmas, it was—she got a letter from the Fairy, saying she might have it Christmas every day for a year, and then they would see about having it longer.
The little girl was a good deal excited already, preparing for the old-fashioned, once-a-year Christmas that was coming the next day, and perhaps the Fairy's promise didn't make such an impression