“Dear lady,” he said, “I do not blame you that you have neglected
your promise. I have stolen here at great risk to lay myself again at
your feet. Surely a loyal heart must weigh with you more than rank or
riches. Ah, dear lady, say that you will be mine!”
I confess that there was something about this young man which made me
like him better than before; but of course a match such as he proposed
was out of the question.
My sister shook her head and drew away her hand. “I cannot, I cannot,”
she said.
“Tell me,” he said, “do you think well of me--do you care for me a
little--do you think you can say you love me, ever so little?”
“I do! I do!” cried my sister, to my amazement, hiding her face in her
hands. “I loved you on the first day I saw you! I can’t help it! I do!”
“Ah, then,” said the young man, rising, while I on my part remained
speechless with astonishment, “what’s to hinder? You are mine!”
“No, no,” said my sister, weeping, “it can never be.”
“Is it because I am poor and friendless?”
My sister said never a word.
“Is it because you prize rank and wealth more than love?”
Still my sister said nothing.
The young man hesitated, and stooping to kiss her hand, he said, “I
have received my answer;” and with these words he strode mournfully to
the door. But she did not look up at him, and with a sigh of deep grief
he left us.
_Paravaine Has Made Her Choice_
“The wrong choice once more,” said the Fool, and he, too, went his way.
My sister had hardly dried her eyes when there came a knock upon the
door behind her, and the King entered. She did not turn round, and the
King tripped in silently on his toes, putting a finger roguishly to
his lips and shaking all over with mirth; and coming up behind her he
placed his two fat hands over her eyes, wagging his eyebrows up and
down at me.
“Guess who it is!” he cried, wheezing. “What do you say? It’s somebody
come a-wooing! Never mind who! Ha, ha, ha! Guess who it is, and
to-morrow you’ll be Queen! What do you say? Pouf! Pah! I’m all out of
breath. It’s somebody that wants you to be his Queen. Guess! The most
beautiful Queen in the whole--”
He stopped suddenly. The King’s Fool and his monkey had slipped into
the room behind him and were standing before my sister, and the dwarf
was holding up his mirror before my sister’s face.
“What, what, what!” cried the King in a rage, taking away his hands
from my sister’s eyes. “What do you mean? Out of my sight, Fool! Away!
Begone!”
The dwarf held the mirror higher, shaking with laughter the while, and
my sister gazed into it. I saw her shudder and turn pale, and then she
screamed and buried her face in her hands.
The King, staring likewise into the mirror, turned purple and remained
as if frozen with horror. He shook himself, and gave a choking gasp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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