Children's stories, French -- Translations into English; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- France
The Frog travelled over mountains and valleys, never stopping day or
night; at last she drew near the capital, where the King was in
residence. She was surprised to see dancing and festivity in every
direction; there was laughter and singing, and the nearer she got to
the town, the more joyous and jubilant the people seemed. Her rural
equipage caused great astonishment, everyone went after it, and so large
had the crowd become by the time she had reached the town, that she had
great difficulty in making her way to the palace. Here everything was as
magnificent as possible, for the King, who had been a widower for nine
years, had at last yielded to the prayers of his subjects, and was on
the eve of marriage with a Princess, less beautiful, it is true, than
his wife, but not the less agreeable for that.
The kind Frog, having descended from her sedan-chair, entered the royal
presence, followed by her attendants. She had no need to ask for
audience, for the King, his affianced bride, and all the princes, were
all much too curious to know the reason of her coming, to think of
interrupting her. "Sire," said she, "I hardly know if the news I bring
you will give you joy or sorrow; the marriage which you are about to
celebrate, convinces me of your infidelity to the Queen."
"Her memory is dear to me as ever," said the King, unable to prevent the
falling of a tear or two; "but you must know, kind frog, that kings are
not always able to do what they wish; for the last nine years, my
subjects have been urging me to marry; I owe them an heir to the throne,
and I have therefore chosen this young Princess, who appears to me all
that is charming." "I advise you not to marry her, for the Queen is not
dead; I bring you a letter from her, written with her own blood. A
little daughter, Moufette, has been born to you, more beautiful than
the heavens themselves." The King took the rag, on which the Queen had
scrawled a few words; he kissed it, he bathed it in his tears, he showed
it to the whole assembly, saying that he recognised his wife's
handwriting; he asked the Frog a thousand questions, which she answered
with vivacity and intelligence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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