Four and Twenty Fairy Tales: Selected from Those of Perrault, and Other Popular Writers
General
Four and Twenty Fairy Tales: Selected from Those of Perrault, and Other Popular Writers
Fairy tales
Ariston began to despair of the success of his passion, but he was too
speedily obliged to confess that this very time, which he complained
of so justly, and in which he felt so keenly the hopelessness of his
love, had, notwithstanding, been the most happy period of his life.
A year after his arrival on the island he celebrated the return of
that memorable day on which he had first beheld Ravissante. In the
evening he gave her a fête in the forest of hyacinths. Marvellous music
was heard in every part of the forest without any one being able to
discover from whence the sounds proceeded. All that was sung by these
invisible musicians tenderly expressed the love of Ariston for the
Princess; they concluded their admirable concert by these words, which
were repeated several times:--
Nor reason nor relentless Fate
My sufferings can terminate!
Without one ray of hope to cheer,
I feel my heart consuming here.
How great his power Love never knew
Till from those eyes his arrows flew.
After the music, there appeared suddenly an elegant collation under
a tent of silver gauze, elegantly looped up with ropes of pearls; it
was open on the side towards the sea, which bounded the forest in that
direction; and was illuminated by a great number of chandeliers formed
of brilliants, which emitted an effulgence nearly equal to that of the
sun. It was by this light that the nymphs of the court of Ravissante
pointed out to her an inscription at the entrance of the pavilion,
written in letters of gold upon a ruby of immense magnitude, supported
by twelve little cupids, who flew away as soon as the Princess had
heard this inscription read, which consisted of these lines:--
Where'er throughout the world those lovely eyes
May the devoted hearts of men enchain,
For one as true as in this desert sighs
Those lovely eyes may search, sweet maid, in vain.
But through that world your glory to proclaim,
And every mortal to your altar bring,
Princess, we haste to bid the trump of Fame
With praise of beauty so divine to ring.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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