She was in despair. This prince
was surnamed the Terrible, by reason of his ferocity to women: till
that moment he had never loved, but he had frequently made pretence of
it, and when successful, it was not unusual with him to cut out the
poor ladies' tongues, put out their eyes, or even throw them into the
sea. The least pretext sufficed for this; and the queen, who was of a
kind disposition, lamented that yet another victim was preparing. The
courtiers begged her to be tranquil; said it was nothing more than the
daughter of a poor woodcutter whom his majesty now admired, and that
if he did kill her, it would be of little consequence.
But the courtiers, and the queen dowager herself, were altogether
bewildered when the king, having liberated the woodcutter and his
family, brought Rose to the palace as his wife. She was not at all
abashed or out of countenance; she behaved with the utmost respect to
the queen, and with affability to all. It was universally remarked:
"The king has committed a folly, but that charming girl is his excuse,
and no man would have been wiser under similar circumstances."
A grand ball was given in the evening. Rose danced well enough for a
queen; and she yielded herself up entirely to the enchantment of such
a happy day. The prince, ever eager to be near her, was figuring away
in a quadrille, when twelve o'clock struck: great, then, was his
astonishment, while gazing passionately on his partner, he beheld--a
negress!
"What metamorphosis is this?" cried he, rudely seizing her arm; "where
is the princess I married to-day?"
Rose bent her head in confusion; it still bore her diamonds, and her
crown,--no doubt could exist of her identity.
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