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
At length, to put an end to these tender reflections, she descended
into the garden, the fine weather seeming to invite her to a stroll.
Her eyes were enchanted; they had never seen anything in nature so
beautiful. The groves were ornamented with admirable statues and
numberless fountains, which cooled the air, and shot up to such a
height that the eye could scarcely follow them.
What surprised her most was, that she recognised the places wherein she
had dreamt she had seen the unknown. Especially at the sight of the
grand canal, bordered with orange and myrtle trees, she could not but
think of her vision, which appeared no longer a fiction. She thought to
explain the mystery by imagining that the Beast kept some one shut up
in his palace. She resolved to be enlightened on the subject that same
evening, and to question the Monster, from whom she expected a visit
at the usual hour. She walked for the rest of the day, as long as her
strength permitted, without being able to see all.
The apartments which she had not been able to inspect the evening
before, were no less worthy of her admiration than the others. Besides
the instruments and curiosities with which she was surrounded, she
found in another cabinet plenty to occupy her. It was filled with
purses, and shuttles for knotting, scissors for cutting out, and fitted
up for all sorts of ladies' work; in fact, everything was to be found
there.
In this gallery care had been taken to place a cage filled with rare
birds, all of which, on the arrival of Beauty, formed an admirable
concert. They came also and perched on her shoulders, and these loving
little creatures vied with each other as to which should nestle closest
to her. "Amiable prisoners," said she, "I think you charming, and I am
vexed that you should be so far from my apartment, I should often like
the pleasure of hearing you sing."
What was her surprise, when as she said these words, she opened a door
and found herself in her own chamber, which she believed was very
distant from this gallery, having only arrived in it after turning
and threading a labyrinth of apartments which composed this pavilion.
A panel which had concealed from her the neighbourhood of the birds,
opened into the gallery, and was very convenient, as it completely shut
out the noise of them when quiet was desirable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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