One evening, being more worn out than usual, she seated herself at the
foot of a tree and fell asleep. A slight noise awoke her, and, on
looking up, she perceived a young gentleman richly dressed, who was
contemplating her with evident astonishment. "Art thou a goddess, or a
simple mortal?" cried he.
"Sir," replied Rose, "I am the daughter of a poor woodcutter, who
lives in the forest;--it is late, and I beg you will not detain me."
"You are a wayward beauty, indeed!" replied the prince, for so he was;
"but as my way lies in that direction, I hope you will permit me to
see you home."
"It is not in my power to prevent you," said Rose, without raising her
eyes.
The prince at this moment remarked that she had been weeping, and,
delighted to have an opportunity of offering sympathy and consolation,
entreated her to impart her grief to him. "I am not actuated by mere
curiosity," added he; "I never can behold a woman in tears without
feeling moved to the bottom of my soul! Tell me your distress, and I
will neither sleep nor eat till I have aided you."
Rose timidly raised her lovely blue eyes, to see whether the
countenance of the prince harmonised with his discourse; but although
he was not actually ugly, his features wore an expression too stern
and hypocritical to invite her confidence. She therefore walked
silently forward, and when near the cottage felt so uneasy, that, for
the first time, she invented a lie in order to get rid of him.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269