LITMIR.BIZ

      The Blue Bird

      (Madame d'Aulnoy)

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      Once upon a time there was a king who was exceedingly rich both in lands and money. His wife died, and he was inconsolable. He shut himself up for a week in a little room, where he beat his head against the walls in the extremity of his affliction. Fearing he would kill himself, they put some mattrasses between the tapestry and the wall, so that knock himself about as much as he pleased he could not do himself any mischief. All his subjects agreed amongst themselves, that they would go to him and exert their utmost eloquence to moderate his grief. Some prepared grave and serious orations; others, agreeable, and even lively addresses; but none made the least impression upon his mind, for he scarcely heard a word they said to him. At last a female presented herself before him, so muffled up in black crape, veils, mantles and other long mourning garments, and who wept and sobbed so much and so loudly, that he was perfectly astonished. She told him, she would not attempt, as others had done, to mitigate his sorrow; she came to augment it, as nothing could be more just than to lament the loss of a good wife; that for her own part, having lost the best of husbands, she had made up her mind to weep as long as she had eyes in her head; and thereupon she redoubled her groans, and the king, following her example, began to howl outright. He received this visitor with more attention than the others. He talked to her of the excellent qualities of his dear departed, and she recapitulated all those of her beloved defunct. They talked so much of their sorrow, that at last they were puzzled to know what more to say about it. When the cunning widow saw the subject was nearly exhausted, she raised her veil a little, and the afflicted king refreshed his sight with the contemplation of this poor mourner, who rolled about her large blue eyes fringed with long black lashes in the most effective manner. Her complexion was still blooming. The king examined her with a great deal of attention. By degrees he spoke less and less of his wife: at last he ceased to speak of her altogether. The widow declared that she should never leave off mourning for her husband. The king implored her not to make sorrow eternal. In fine, to the astonishment of everybody, he married her, and the sables were changed into green and rose colour. It is often only requisite to ascertain the particular foibles of persons, to enable you to creep into their confidence, and do just as you please with them.

      The king had only had a daughter by his first wife, who was considered the eighth wonder of the world. She was named Florine, because she was so sweet, young, and beautiful. She was seldom seen in splendid attire, she preferred light morning dresses of taffety, fastened with a few jewels, and quantities of the finest flowers, which produced an admirable effect when twined with her beautiful hair. She was only fifteen when the king was re-married.

The new queen sent for her own daughter, who had been brought up by her godmother, the Fairy Soussio, but she was not more graceful or beautiful in consequence. Soussio had laboured hard to make something of her, but had laboured in vain. She loved her dearly, though, notwithstanding. Her name was Truitonne, her face being covered with reddish spots like those on the back of a trout.¹ Her black hair was so greasy and dirty, that no one would venture to touch it, and oil oozed out of her yellow skin. The queen, her mother, doted on her; she talked of nothing but the charming Truitonne, and as Florine possessed so many advantages over her daughter, it exasperated her, and she sought, by every possible means, to injure the poor princess in the eyes of her father. Not a day passed that the queen and Truitonne did not play Florine some mischievous trick. The princess, who was mild as she was sensible, only endeavoured to keep herself out of the reach of their malice.

      The king observed one day to the queen, that Florine and Truitonne were of an age to be married, and that they should bestow the hand of one of them on the first prince who visited their court. "I wish," said the queen, "that my daughter should be married first; she is older than yours, and as she is a thousand times more amiable, there can be no hesitation about the matter." The king, who disliked argument, answered that he was quite willing it should be so, and that he left her to take any measures she pleased.

      A short time after this, it was announced that a visit from King Charmant might be expected. Never was any prince more celebrated for gallantry and magnificence. In mind and person he was charming as his name implied. When the queen heard this news, she employed all the embroiderers, all the tailors, all the work-people of every kind, to make dresses for Truitonne, and requested the king to give nothing new to Florine. She then bribed the waiting women to steal all the princess's clothes, head dresses, and jewels, the very day King Charmant arrived, so that when Florine went to dress she could not find even a ribbon. She knew well enough who had done her this good turn. She sent to purchase materials for a new dress; but all the tradesmen returned for answer, that they had been forbidden by the queen to furnish her with anything. She was left, therefore, with only the gown she had on her back, and which was very much soiled, and she was so ashamed of her appearance that, when King Charmant arrived, she hid herself in a corner of the hall.

      The queen received her royal visitor with great pomp, and presented her daughter to him, a complete blaze of magnificence, which only made her look more ugly than usual. King Charmant turned his eyes from her as soon as possible. The queen endeavoured to persuade herself that he was too much struck with her, and was afraid of committing himself. In this belief, she continually placed Truitonne before him. He inquired if there was not another princess named Florine. "Yes," said Truitonne, pointing to her with her finger; "there she is, hiding herself, because she is not finely dressed." Florine blushed, and looked so beautiful, so exceedingly beautiful in her confusion, that King Charmant was perfectly dazzled. He rose immediately and bowed profoundly to the princess. "Madam," said he, "your incomparable beauty renders the foreign aid of ornament quite unnecessary." "Sir," replied she, "I own I am little accustomed to wear so disgraceful a dress as this, and I should have been better pleased to have escaped your notice." "It would have been impossible," exclaimed Chamiant, "for a princess so marvellously beautiful to be anywhere without attracting all eyes from the contemplation of any other object." "Ah," said the queen, greatly irritated, "it is pretty pastime to hear you pay these compliments! Believe me, Sir, Florine is already vain enough; she stands in no need of such excessive flattery." King Charmant quickly perceived the queen's motives for thus speaking, but as he was not at all accustomed to constrain his inclinations, he continued openly to manifest his admiration of Florine, and conversed with her for three whole hours.

      The queen in despair, and Truitonne inconsolable that the princess should be thus preferred to her, complained bitterly to the king, and compelled him to consent that, during the residence of King Charmant, Florine should be shut up in a tower, where they could not see each other; and, accordingly, no sooner had she retired to her apartments, than four men in masks seized and carried her to a room at the top of the tower, where they left her in the greatest distress, for she saw clearly that she was thus treated in order to prevent her securing the affections of her royal admirer, with whom already she was much delighted, and would willingly have accepted him for her husband.

      As he was not in the least aware of the violence that had been used towards the princess, he awaited with the greatest impatience the hour when he hoped to meet her again. He talked of her to the gentlemen whom the king had placed about his person

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