If not, promise that you
will yourself return in three months, to be dealt with as I may
choose."
The tender-hearted merchant had no thoughts of letting any one of his
daughters die for his sake; but he knew that if he seemed to accept
the beast's terms, he should at least have the pleasure of seeing them
once again. So he gave his promise, and was told he might then set off
as soon as he liked. "But," said the beast, "I do not wish you to go
back empty-handed. Go to the room you slept in, and you will find a
chest there; fill it with whatsoever you like best, and I will have it
taken to your own house for you."
When the beast had said this, he went away. The good merchant, left to
himself, began to consider that as he must die--for he had no thought
of breaking a promise, made even to a beast--he might as well have the
comfort of leaving his children provided for. He returned to the room
he had slept in, and found there heaps of gold pieces lying about. He
filled the chest with them to the very brim, locked it, and, mounting
his horse, left the palace as sorrowful as he had been glad when he
first beheld it. The horse took a path across the forest of his own
accord, and in a few hours they reached the merchant's house. His
children came running round him, but, instead of kissing them with
joy, he could not help weeping as he looked at them.
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