"
For a whole month following she had sufficient resolution to see Mirto
no more, and was becoming sick with chagrin and weariness. The queen
visited her frequently, bringing all sorts of sweetmeats, and a
singing-bird, to divert her captivity. She brought no finery; indeed,
that would have been quite thrown away on the pigeons.
At length, one day Rose heard a great noise in the palace. People kept
running to and fro--all the bells were rung, and all the cannons
fired. The poor prisoner mounted up to one of the pigeon-holes, and
peeping through, perceived the palace hung with black. She knew not
what to think. But some one of the queen's officers appeared, and
conducted her in due form to the court. Rose, all trembling, inquired
what had happened.
"Your majesty is a widow," replied the officer; "the king has been
killed in hunting; here are your weeds, of which the queen begs your
acceptance."
Rose was much agitated, but she followed the officer in silence, with
a sad and serious aspect, as a dignified personage should do when
informed of the death of a husband.
The queen was a tender mother, and although fully conscious of the
ferocious disposition of her son, she deeply lamented him, and wept
bitterly on embracing her daughter-in-law. "You husband is no more,"
said she; "forget his errors, my dear child; the remainder of my life
shall be devoted to making atonement for them.
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