_Prince Florimond_, having no eyes but for his love, might be excused if he forgot that his attendants must, long before now, have carried home their report, and that his parents would be in deep distress, wondering what had become of him. But the _King_, the _Princess's_ father, had a truly royal habit of remembering details, especially when it concerned setting folks at their ease. Before dinner he had dispatched a messenger to carry word to _Prince Florimond's_ father, that his son was safe, and to acquaint him briefly with what had befallen. The messenger, riding through the undergrowth--which now obligingly parted before him as it had, a while ago, to admit the _Prince_--and arriving at the outskirts of the wood, found there a search-party vainly endeavouring to break through the barrier, with the _Prince's_ aged father standing by and exhorting them in person, to whom he delivered his message. Trembling with relief--for he truly supposed his son to be lost beyond recall--the old man entreated the messenger to turn back and escort him. So he arrived, and was ushered into the hall. The situation, to be sure, was delicate. But when these two kings, both so well meaning, had met and exchanged courtesies, and the one had raised the other by the hand to a place on the daïs beside him, already and without speech they had almost accorded. 'I am an old man,' said the _Prince's_ father; 'I have reigned long enough for my satisfaction, and now care for little in life but to see my son happy.' 'I think I can promise you that,' said the _Princess's_ father, smiling, with a glance at the two lovers. 'I am old enough, at any rate, to have done with ambitions,' said the one. 'And I,' said the other, 'have dreamed long enough, at any rate, to despise them. What matters ruling to either of us two, while we see your son and my daughter reigning together?' So it was agreed, then and there; and after supper, without loss of time, the Archbishop married the _Prince Florimond_ and the _Princess Aurora_ in the chapel of the Castle. The two Kings and the _Princess's_ mother saw them to their chamber, and the first maid-of-honour drew the curtain. They slept little--the _Princess_ had no occasion; but the _Prince_ next morning led his bride back to the city, where they were acclaimed by the populace and lived happy ever after, reigning in prosperity and honour. MORAL _Ye Maids, to await some while a lover fond,_ _Rich titled, debonair as Florimond,_ _Is reason; and who learns on fate to attend_ _Goes seldom unrewarded in the end--_ _'What! No one kiss us for a hundred years!'_ _There, la-la-la! I understood, my dears._ ANOTHER _Further, the story would suggest a doubt_ _That marriage_ may _be happiest when deferr'd--_ _'Deferr'd?' you cry--'Deferr'd,' I see you pout,_ _--We'll skip this morale and attempt a third._ ANOTHER