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diff --git a/old/25405-h.htm.2019-03-03 b/old/25405-h.htm.2019-03-03 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee04cd9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/25405-h.htm.2019-03-03 @@ -0,0 +1,4179 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Honey-Bee, by Anatole France + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:15%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Honey-Bee, by Anatole France + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Honey-Bee + 1911 + +Author: Anatole France + +Illustrator: Florence Lundborg + +Translator: Mrs. John Lane + +Release Date: May 9, 2008 [EBook #25405] +Last Updated: March 3, 2019 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONEY-BEE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="frontispiece (74K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="titlepage (48K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h1> + HONEY-BEE + </h1> + <h2> + By Anatole France + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + A Translation By Mrs. John Lane <br /> <br /> Illustrated By Florence + Lundborg + </h3> + <h4> + Published by John Lane MCMXI + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + TO <br /><br /> H. B. H. DEAR AND LIFE-LONG FRIEND + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>"HONEY-BEE"</b></big> </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I </a> + </td> + <td> + Which treats of the appearance of the country and serves as + Introduction + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II </a> + </td> + <td> + In which we learn what the white rose meant to the Countess of + Blanchelande + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> III </a> + </td> + <td> + Wherein begins the love of George of Blanchelande and Honey-Bee of + Claride + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV </a> + </td> + <td> + Which treats of Education in general, and George of Blanchelande’s in + particular + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V </a> + </td> + <td> + Which tells how the Duchess took Honeybee and George to the Hermitage, + and of their encounter with a hideous old woman + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI </a> + </td> + <td> + Which tells of what can be seen from the Keep of Clarides + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII </a> + </td> + <td> + In which is described how George and Honey-Bee went to the lake + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII </a> + </td> + <td> + Wherein we shall see what happened to George of Blanchelande because + he approached the lake in which the nixies dwel + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX </a> + </td> + <td> + Wherein we shall see how Honey-Bee was taken to the dwarfs + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X </a> + </td> + <td> + In which we are faithfully told how King Loc received Honey-Bee of + Clarides + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI </a> + </td> + <td> + In which the marvels of the kingdom of the dwarfs are accurately + described as well as the dolls that were given to Honey-Bee + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII </a> + </td> + <td> + In which the treasures of King Loc are described as well as the writer + is able + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII </a> + </td> + <td> + In which King Loc declares himself + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV </a> + </td> + <td> + In which we are told how Honey-Bee saw her mother again, but could not + embrace her + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV </a> + </td> + <td> + In which we shall see how King Loc suffered + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI </a> + </td> + <td> + In which an account is given of the learned Nur who was the cause of + such extraordinary joy to King Loc + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVII </a> + </td> + <td> + Which tells of the wonderful adventure of George of Blanchelande + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVIII </a> + </td> + <td> + In which King Loc undertakes a terrible journey + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIX </a> + </td> + <td> + Which tells of the extraordinary encounter of Jean the master tailor, + and of the blessed song the birds in the grove sang to the duchess + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XX </a> + </td> + <td> + Which treats of a little satin shoe + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXI </a> + </td> + <td> + In which a perilous adventure is described + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXII </a> + </td> + <td> + In which all ends well + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + It is an honour, but, also, a great responsibility, to introduce through + the dangerous medium of a translation one of the most distinguished + writers of our time, and, probably, the greatest living master of style, + to a new world—the world of childhood. One is conscious that it is + as impossible to translate the charm and art of Anatole France as it is to + describe in dull, colourless words the exquisite perfume of the rose. + </p> + <p> + Such as this translation is I offer it with diffidence, realising that I + have undertaken a difficult task. And yet I venture to do so for I long to + make known to English and American children one of the loveliest and + noblest of stories—a story overflowing with poetic imagination, + wisdom and humour, divine qualities to which the heart of the child is + always open as the flower to the dew. + </p> + <p> + I want young children as well as others, older only by accident of years, + but whose hearts are always young—which is the eternal youth—to + know the greatest French writer of his day, when, by the magic of his pen, + he, like them, becomes young, gentle and charming. I want them to learn to + love his “Honey-Bee,” newest and sweetest of those darlings of + childhood who have come down to us from bygone ages, distant lands and + half-forgotten races, but who in their eternal charm appeal to all + children since children first heard those wonderful stories or pored over + treasured books that awaken the ardent young imagination to love, beauty, + romance and goodness. + </p> + <p> + So, too, some day will “Honey-Bee” the golden-haired princess + of the dear, good dwarfs, join her enchanting companions, Cinderella, + Beauty and the Beast, Red Riding Hood, The Sleeping Beauty, The Frog + Prince, Puss in Boots, Aladdin, and all the others of that immortal galaxy + whose glorious destiny it has been to be beloved by childhood. May they + welcome “Honey-Bee,” youngest of all. And so the Master, + supreme when he writes for men and women, will find open to him a new + world, purer and more beautiful, in the hearts of English and American + children. + </p> + <p> + A. E. L. <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + “HONEY-BEE” + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="026 (111K)" src="images/026.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + I + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which treats of the appearance of the country and serves as + Introduction +</pre> + <p> + The sea covers to-day what was once the Duchy of Clarides. No trace of the + town or the castle remains. But when it is calm there can be seen, it is + said, within the circumference of a mile, huge trunks of trees standing on + the bottom of the sea. A spot on the banks, which now serves as a station + for the customhouse officers, is still called “The Tailor’s + Booth,” and it is quite probable that this name is in memory of a + certain Master Jean who is mentioned in this story. The sea, which + encroaches year by year, will soon cover this spot so curiously named. + </p> + <p> + Such changes are in the nature of things. The mountains sink in the course + of ages, and the depths of the seas, on the contrary, rise until their + shells and corals are carried to the regions of clouds and ice. + </p> + <p> + Nothing endures. The face of land and sea is for ever changing. Tradition + alone preserves the memory of men and places across the ages and renders + real to us what has long ceased to exist. In telling you of Clarides I + wish to take you back to times that have long since vanished. Thus I + begin: + </p> + <p> + The Countess of Blanchelande having placed on her golden hair a little + black hood embroidered with pearls.... + </p> + <p> + But before proceeding I must beg very serious persons not to read this. It + is not written for them. It is not written for grave people who despise + trifles and who always require to be instructed. I only venture to offer + this to those who like to be entertained, and whose minds are both young + and gay. Only those who are amused by innocent pleasures will read this to + the end. Of these I beg, should they have little children, that they will + tell them about my Honey-Bee. I wish this story to please both boys and + girls and yet I hardly dare to hope it will. It is too frivolous for them + and, really, only suitable for old-fashioned children. I have a pretty + little neighbour of nine whose library I examined the other day. I found + many books on the microscope and the zoophytes, as well as several + scientific story-books. One of these I opened at the following lines: + “The cuttle-fish <i>Sepia Officinalis</i> is a cephalopodic mollusc + whose body includes a spongy organ containing a chylaqueous fluid + saturated with carbonate of lime.” My pretty little neighbour finds + this story very interesting. I beg of her, unless she wishes me to die of + mortification, never to read the story of Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="032 (113K)" src="images/032.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + II + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which we learn what the white rose meant to the Countess + of Blanchelande +</pre> + <p> + Having placed on her golden hair a little black hood embroidered with + pearls and bound about her waist a widow’s girdle, the Countess of + Blanchelande entered the chapel where it was her daily custom to pray for + the soul of her husband who had been killed in single-handed combat with a + giant from Ireland. + </p> + <p> + That day she saw a white rose lying on the cushion of her <i>prie-Dieu</i>; + at sight of this she turned pale; her eyes grew dim; she bowed her head + and wrung her hand. For she knew that when a Countess of Blanchelande is + about to die she always finds a white rose on her <i>prie-Dieu</i>. + </p> + <p> + Warned by this that her time had come to leave a world in which in so + short a time she had been wife, mother and widow, she entered the chamber + where her son George slept in the care of the nurses. He was three years + old. His long eyelashes threw a lovely shadow on his cheeks, and his mouth + looked like a flower. At sight of him, so helpless and so beautiful, she + began to weep. + </p> + <p> + “My little child,” she cried in anguish, “my dear little + child, you will never have known me and my image will fade for ever from + your dear eyes. And yet, to be truly your mother, I nourished you with my + own milk, and for love of you I refused the hand of the noblest cavaliers.” + </p> + <p> + So speaking she kissed a medallion in which was her own portrait and a + lock of her hair, and this she hung about the neck of her son. A mothers + tear fell on the little one’s cheek as he stirred in his cradle and + rubbed his eyes with his little hands. But the Countess turned her head + away and fled out of the room. How could eyes about to be extinguished for + ever bear the light of two dear eyes in which the soul was only beginning + to dawn? + </p> + <p> + She ordered a steed to be saddled and followed by her squire, Francoeur, + she rode to the castle of Clarides. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess of Clarides embraced the Countess of Blanchelande. + </p> + <p> + “Loveliest! what good fortune brings you here?” + </p> + <p> + “The fortune that brings me here is not good. Listen, my friend. We + were married within a few years of each other, and similar fates have made + us widows. For in these times of chivalry the best perish first, and in + order to live long one must be a monk. When you became a mother I had + already been one for two years. Your daughter Honey-Bee is lovely as the + day, and my little George is good. I love you and you love me. Know then + that I have found a white rose on the cushion of my <i>prie-Dieu</i>. I am + about to die; I leave you my son.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess knew what the white rose meant to the ladies of Blanchelande. + She began to weep and in the midst of her tears she promised to bring up + Honey-Bee and George as brother and sister, and to give nothing to one + which the other did not share. + </p> + <p> + Still in each other’s arms the two women approached the cradle where + little Honey-Bee slept under light curtains, blue as the sky, and without + opening her eyes, she moved her little arms. And as she spread her fingers + five little rosy rays came out of each sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “He will defend her,” said the mother of George. + </p> + <p> + “And she will love him,” the mother of Honey-Bee replied. + </p> + <p> + “She will love him,” a clear little voice repeated, which the + Duchess recognised as that of a spirit which for a long time had lived + under the hearth-stone. + </p> + <p> + On her return to her manor the lady of Blanchelande divided her jewels + among her women and having had herself anointed with perfumed ointments + and robed in her richest raiment in order to honour the body destined to + rise again at the Day of Judgment, she lay down on her bed and fell asleep + never again to awaken. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="038 (103K)" src="images/038.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + III + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Wherein begins the love of George of Blanchelande and Honey- + Bee of Claride +</pre> + <p> + Contrary to the common destiny which is to have more goodness than beauty, + or more beauty than goodness, the Duchess of Clarides was as good as she + was beautiful, and she was so beautiful that many princes, though they had + only seen her portrait, demanded her hand in marriage. But to all their + pleading she replied: + </p> + <p> + “I shall have but one husband as I have but one soul.” + </p> + <p> + However, after five years of mourning she left off her long veil and her + black robes so as not to spoil the happiness of those about her, and in + order that all should smile and be free to enjoy themselves in her + presence. Her duchy comprised a great extent of country; moorlands, + overgrown by heather, covered the desolate expanse, lakes in which + fishermen sometimes caught magic fish, and mountains which rose in fearful + solitudes over subterraneous regions inhabited by dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + She governed Clarides with the help of an old monk who, having escaped + from Constantinople and seen much violence and treachery, had but little + faith in human goodness. He lived in a tower in the company of birds and + books, and from this place he filled his position as counsellor by the aid + of a number of little maxims. His rules were these: “Never revive a + law once fallen into disuse; always accede to the demands of a people for + fear of revolt, but accede as slowly as possible, because no sooner is one + reform granted than the public demands another, and you can be turned out + for acceding too quickly as well as for resisting too long.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess let him have his own way, for she understood nothing about + politics. She was compassionate and, as she was unable to respect all men, + she pitied those who were unfortunate enough to be wicked. She helped the + suffering in every possible way, visited the sick, comforted the widows, + and took the poor orphans under her protection. + </p> + <p> + She educated her daughter Honey-Bee with a charming wisdom. Having brought + the child up only to do good, she never denied her any pleasure. + </p> + <p> + This good woman kept the promise she had made to the poor Countess of + Blanchelande. She was like a mother to George, and she made no difference + between him and Honey-Bee. They grew up together, and George approved of + Honey-Bee, though he thought her rather small. Once, when they were very + little, he went up to her and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Will you play with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to,” said Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + “We will make mud pies,” said George, which they proceeded to + do. But as Honey-Bee made hers very badly, George struck her fingers with + his spade. Whereupon Honey-Bee set up a most awful roar and the squire, + Francoeur, who was strolling about in the garden, said to his young + master: + </p> + <p> + “It is not worthy of a Count of Blanchelande to strike young ladies, + your lordship.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon George was seized with an ardent desire to hit Francoeur also + with his spade. But as this presented insurmountable difficulties, he + resigned himself to do what was easier, and that was to stand with his + nose against the trunk of a big tree and weep torrents. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Honey-Bee took care to encourage her own tears by digging + her fists into her eyes; and in her despair she rubbed her nose against + the trunk of a neighbouring tree. When night came and softly covered the + earth, Honey-Bee and George were still weeping, each in front of a tree. + The Duchess of Clarides was obliged to come and take her daughter by one + hand and George by the other, and lead them back to the castle. Their eyes + were red and their noses were red and their cheeks shone. They sighed and + sobbed enough to break one’s heart. But they ate a good supper, + after which they were both put to bed. But as soon as the candle was blown + out they re-appeared like two little ghosts in two little night-gowns, and + they hugged each other and laughed at the top of their voices. + </p> + <p> + And thus began the love of Honey-Bee of Clarides and George of + Blanchelande. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="046 (114K)" src="images/046.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + IV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which treats of Education in general, and George of Blanche + lande’s in particular +</pre> + <p> + So George grew up in the Castle side by side with Honey-Bee, whom he + affectionately called his sister though he knew she was not. + </p> + <p> + He had masters in fencing, riding, swimming, gymnastics, dancing, hunting, + falconry, tennis, and, indeed, in all the arts. He even had a + writing-master. This was an old cleric, humble of manner but very proud + within, who taught him all manner of penmanship, and the more beautiful + this was the less decipherable it became. Very little pleasure or profit + did George get out of the old cleric’s lessons, as little as out of + those of an old monk who taught him grammar in barbarous terms. George + could not understand the sense of learning a language which one knows as a + matter of course and which is called one’s mother tongue. + </p> + <p> + He only enjoyed himself with Francoeur the squire, who, having knocked + about the world, understood the ways of men and beasts, could describe all + sorts of countries and compose songs which he could not write. Francoeur + was the only one of his masters who taught George anything, for he was the + only one who really loved him, and the only good lessons are those which + are given with love. The two old goggle-eyes, the writing-master and the + grammar-master, who hated each other with all their hearts, were, however, + united in a common hatred of the old squire, whom they accused of being a + drunkard. + </p> + <p> + It is true that Francoeur frequented the tavern “The Pewter Pot” + somewhat too zealously. It was here that he forgot his sorrows and + composed his songs. But of course it was very wrong of him. + </p> + <p> + Homer made better verses than Francoeur, and Homer only drank the water of + the springs. As for sorrows the whole world has sorrows, and the thing to + make one forget them is not the wine one drinks, but the good one does. + But Francoeur was an old man grown grey in harness, faithful and + trustworthy, and the two masters of writing and grammar should have hidden + his failings from the duchess instead of giving her an exaggerated account + of them. + </p> + <p> + “Francoeur is a drunkard,” said the writing-master, “and + when he comes back from ‘The Pewter Pot’ he makes a letter S + as he walks. Moreover, it is the only letter he has ever made; because if + it please your Grace, this drunkard is an ass.” + </p> + <p> + The grammar-master added, “And the songs Francoeur sings as he + staggers about err against all rules and are constructed on no model at + all. He ignores all the rules of rhetoric, please your Grace.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess had a natural distaste for pedants and tale-bearers. She did + what we all would have done in her place; at first she did not listen to + them but as they again began to repeat their tittle-tattle, she ended by + believing them and decided to send Francoeur away. However, to give him an + honourable exile, she sent him to Rome to obtain the blessing of the Pope. + This journey was all the longer for Francoeur the squire because a great + many taverns much frequented by musicians separated the duchy of Clarides + from the holy apostolic seat. In the course of this story we shall see how + soon the Duchess regretted having deprived the two children of their most + faithful guardian. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="052 (117K)" src="images/052.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + V + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which tells how the Duchess took Honeybee and George to the + Hermitage, and of their encounter with a hideous old woman +</pre> + <p> + That morning, it was the first Sunday after Easter, the Duchess rode out + of the castle on her great sorrel horse, while on? her left George of + Blanchelande was mounted on a dark horse with a white star on his black + forehead, and on her right Honey-Bee guided her milk-white steed with + rose-coloured reins. They were on their way to the Hermitage to hear mass. + Soldiers armed with lances formed their escort and, as they passed, the + people crowded forward to admire them, and, indeed, all three were very + fair to see. Under a veil of silver flowers and with flowing mantle the + Duchess had an air of lovely majesty; while the pearls with which her coif + was embroidered shone with a soft radiance that well-suited the face and + soul of this beautiful lady. George by her side with flowing hair and + sparkling eyes was very good to see. And on the other side rode Honey-Bee, + the tender and pure colour of her face like a caress for the eyes; but + most glorious of all her fair tresses, flowing over her shoulders, held by + a circlet of gold surmounted by three gold flowers, seemed the shining + mantle of her youth and beauty. The good people said, on seeing her: + </p> + <p> + “What a lovely young damsel.” + </p> + <p> + The master tailor, old Jean, took his grandson Peter in his arms to point + out |Honey-Bce to him, and Peter asked was she alive or was she an image + of wax, for he could not understand how any one could be so white and so + lovely, and yet belong to the same race as himself, little Peter with his + good big weather-beaten cheeks, and his little home-spun shirt laced + behind in country fashion. + </p> + <p> + While the Duchess accepted the people’s homage with gracious + kindness, the two children showed how it gratified their pride, George by + his blushes, Honey-Bee by her smiles, and for this reason the Duchess said + to them: + </p> + <p> + “How kindly these good people greet us. For what reason, George? And + what is the reason, Honey-Bee?” + </p> + <p> + “So they should,” said Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + “It’s their duty,” George added. + </p> + <p> + “But why should it be their duty?” asked the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + And as neither replied, she continued: + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you. For more than three hundred years the dukes of + Clarides, from father to son, have lance in hand protected these poor + people so that they could gather the harvests of the fields they had sown. + For more than three hundred years all the duchesses of Clarides have spun + the cloth for the poor, have visited the sick, and have held the new-born + at the baptismal font. That is the reason they greet you, my children.” + </p> + <p> + George was lost in deep thought: “We must protect those who toil on + the land,” and Honcy-Bee said: “One should spin for the poor.” + </p> + <p> + And thus chatting and meditating they went on their way through meadows + starred with flowers. A fringe of blue mountains lay against the distant + horizon. George pointed towards the east. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a great steel shield I see over there?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no,” said Honey-Bee, “it’s a round silver + clasp, as big as the moon.” + </p> + <p> + “It is neither a steel shield nor a silver clasp, my children,” + replied the Duchess, “but a lake glittering in the sunshine. The + surface of this lake, which seen from here is as smooth as a mirror, is + stirred by innumerable ripples. Its borders which appear as distinct as it + cut in metal are really covered by reeds with feathery plumes and irises + whose flower is like a human glance between the blades of swords. Every + morning a white mist rises over the lake which shines like armour under + the midday sun. But none must approach it for in it dwell the nixies who + lure passers by into their crystal abodes.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the bell of the Hermitage was heard. + </p> + <p> + “Let us dismount,” said the Duchess, “and walk to the + chapel. It was neither on elephants nor camels that the wise men of the + East approached the manger.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="056 (75K)" src="images/056.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + They heard the hermit’s mass. A hideous old crone covered with rags + knelt beside the Duchesss, who on leaving the church offered her holy + water. + </p> + <p> + “Accept it, good mother,” she said. + </p> + <p> + George was amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not know,” said the Duchess, “that in the poor + you honour the chosen of our Lord Jesus Christ? A beggar such as this as + well as the good Duke of Rochesnoires held you at the font when you were + baptized; and your little sister, Honey-Bee, also had one of these poor + creatures as godmother.” + </p> + <p> + The old crone who seemed to have guessed the boy’s thoughts leaned + towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Fair prince,” she cried mockingly, “may you conquer as + many kingdoms as I have lost. I was the queen of the Island of Pearls and + the Mountains of Gold; each day my table was served with fourteen + different kinds of fish, and a negro page bore my train.” + </p> + <p> + “And by what misfortune have you lost your islands and your + mountains, good woman?” asked the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + “I vexed the dwarfs, and they carried me far away from my dominions.” + </p> + <p> + “Are the dwarfs so powerful?” George asked. + </p> + <p> + “As they live in the earth,” the old woman answered, “they + know the virtue of precious stones, they work in metals, and they unseal + the hidden sources of the springs.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you do to vex them?” asked the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + “On a December night,” said the old woman, “one of them + came to ask permission to prepare a great midnight banquet in the kitchen + of the castle, which, vaster than a chapter-house, was furnished with + casseroles, frying-pans, earthen saucepans, kettles, pans, portable-ovens, + gridirons, boilers, dripping-pans, dutch-ovens, fish-kettles, copper-pans, + pastry-moulds, copper-jugs, goblets of gold and silver, and mottled wood, + not to mention iron roasting-jacks, artistically forged, and the huge + black cauldron which hung from the pothook. He promised neither to disturb + nor to damage anything. I refused his request, and he disappeared + muttering vague threats. The third night, it being Christmas, this same + dwarf returned to the chamber where I slept. He was accompanied by + innumerable others, who pulled me out of bed and carried me to an unknown + land in my nightgown. ‘Such,’ they said as they left me, + ‘such is the punishment of the rich who refuse even a part of their + treasure to the industrious and kindly dwarf folk who work in gold and + cause the springs to flow.’” + </p> + <p> + Thus said the toothless old woman, and the Duchess having comforted her + with words and money, she and the two children retraced their way to the + castle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="062 (104K)" src="images/062.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + VI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which tells of what can be seen from the Keep of Clarides +</pre> + <p> + It was one day shortly after this that Honey-Bee and George, without being + observed, climbed the steps of the watch-tower which stands in the middle + of the Castle of Clarides. Having reached the platform they shouted at the + top of their voices and clapped their hands. + </p> + <p> + Their view extended down the hillside divided into brown and green squares + of cultivated fields. Woods and mountains lay dimly blue against the + distant horizon. + </p> + <p> + “Little sister,” cried George, “little sister, look at + the whole wide world!” + </p> + <p> + “The world is very big,” said Honey-Bee. “My teachers,” + said George, “have taught me that it is very big; but, as Gertrude + our housekeeper says, one must see to believe.” + </p> + <p> + They went the round of the platform. + </p> + <p> + “Here is something wonderful, little brother,” cried + Honey-Bee. “The castle stands in the middle of the earth and we are + on the watch-tower in the middle of the castle, and so we are standing in + the middle of the earth. Ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, the horizon formed a circle about the children of which the + watch-tower was the centre. + </p> + <p> + “We are in the middle of the earth! Ha! ha! ha!” George + repeated. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon they both started a-thinking. + </p> + <p> + “What a pity that the world is so big!” said Honey-Bee, + “one might get lost and be separated from one’s friends.” + </p> + <p> + George shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “How lucky that the world is so big! One can go in search of + adventures. When I am grown up I mean to conquer the mountains that stand + at the ends of the earth. That is where the moon rises; I shall seize her + as she passes, and I will give her to you, Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Honey-Bee, “give her to me and I will put + her in my hair.” + </p> + <p> + Then they busied themselves searching for the places they knew as on a + map. + </p> + <p> + “I recognise everything,” said Honey-Bee, who recognised + nothing, “but what are those little square stones scattered over the + hillside?” + </p> + <p> + “Houses,” George replied. “Those are houses. Don’t + you recognise the capital of the Duchy of Clarides, little sister? After + all, it is a great city; it has three streets, and one can drive through + one of them. Don’t you remember that we passed through it last week + when we went to the Hermitage?” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that winding brook?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the river. See the old stone bridge down there?” + </p> + <p> + “The bridge under which we fished for crayfish?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the one; and in one of the niches stands the statue of + the ‘Woman without a Head.’ One cannot see her from here + because she is too small.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember. But why hasn’t she got a head?” + </p> + <p> + “Probably because she has lost it.” + </p> + <p> + Without saying if this explanation was satisfactory, Honey-Bee gazed at + the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “Little brother, little brother, just see what sparkles by the side + of the blue mountains? It is the lake.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the lake.” + </p> + <p> + They then remembered what the Duchess had told them of these beautiful and + dangerous waters where the nixies dwell. + </p> + <p> + “We will go there,” said Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + George was aghast. He stared at her with his mouth wide open. + </p> + <p> + “But the Duchess has forbidden us to go out alone, so how can we go + to this lake which is at the end of the earth?” + </p> + <p> + “How can we go? I don’t know. It’s you who ought to + know, for you are a man and you have a grammar-master.” + </p> + <p> + This piqued George who replied that one might be a man, and even a very + brave man, and yet not know all the roads on earth. Whereupon Honey-Bee + said drily with a little air of scorn which made him blush to his ears: + </p> + <p> + “I never said <i>I</i> would conquer the blue mountains or take down + the moon. I don’t know the way to the lake, but I mean to find it!” + </p> + <p> + George pretended to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You laugh like a cucumber.” + </p> + <p> + “Cucumbers neither laugh nor cry.” + </p> + <p> + “If they did laugh they would laugh like you. I shall go along to + the lake. And while I search for the beautiful waters in which the nixies + live you shall stay alone at home like a good girl. I will leave you my + needle-work and my doll. Take care of them, George, take good care of + them.” + </p> + <p> + George was proud, and he was conscious of the humiliation with which + Honey-Bee covered him. + </p> + <p> + Gloomily and with head bowed he cried in a hollow voice: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, we will go to the lake.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="072 (87K)" src="images/072.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + VII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which is described how George and Honey-Bee went to the + lake +</pre> + <p> + The next day after the midday meal, the Duchess having gone to her own + room George took Honey-Bee by the hand. “Now come!” he said. + “Where?” “Hush!” + </p> + <p> + They crept down stairs and crossed the courtyard. After they had passed + the postern, Honey-Bee again asked where they were going. + </p> + <p> + “To the lake,” George said resolutely. Honey-Bee opened her + mouth wide but remained speechless. To go so far without permission and in + satin shoes! For her shoes were of satin. There was no sense in it. + </p> + <p> + “We must go and there is no need to be sensible.” + </p> + <p> + Such was George’s proud reply. She had once humiliated him and now + she pretended to be astonished. + </p> + <p> + This time it was he who disdainfully sent her back to her dolls. Girls + always tempt one on to adventures and then run away. So mean! She could + remain. He’d go alone. + </p> + <p> + She clung to his arm; he pushed her away. + </p> + <p> + She hung about his neck. + </p> + <p> + “Little brother,” she sobbed, “I will follow you.” + </p> + <p> + He allowed himself to be moved by such touching repentance. + </p> + <p> + “Come then, but not through the town; we may be seen. We will follow + the ramparts and then we can reach the highway by a cross road.” + </p> + <p> + And so they went hand in hand while George explained his plans. + </p> + <p> + “We will follow the road we took to the Hermitage and then we shall + be sure to see the lake, just as we did the other day, and then we can + cross the fields in a bee line.” + </p> + <p> + “A bee line” is the pretty rustic way of saying a straight + line; and they both laughed because of the young girl’s name which + fitted in so oddly. + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee picked flowers along the ditches; she made a posy of + marshmallows, white mullein, asters and chrysanthemums; the flowers faded + in her little hands and it was pitiful to see them when Honey-Bee crossed + the old stone bridge. As she did not know what to do with them she decided + to throw them into the water to refresh them, but finally she preferred to + give them to the “Woman without a head.” + </p> + <p> + She begged George to lift her in his arms so as to make her tall enough, + and she placed her armful of wild flowers between the folded hands of the + old stone figure. + </p> + <p> + After she was far away she looked back and saw a pigeon resting on the + shoulder of the statue. + </p> + <p> + When they had been walking some time, said Honey-bee, “I am thirsty.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I,” George replied, “but the river is far behind + us, and I see neither brook nor fountain.” + </p> + <p> + “The sun is so hot that he has drunk them all up. What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + So they talked and lamented when they saw a peasant woman approach who + carried a basket of fruit. + </p> + <p> + “Cherries!” cried George. “How unlucky: I have no money + to buy any.” + </p> + <p> + “I have money,” said Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + She pulled out of her pocket a little purse in which were five pieces of + gold. + </p> + <p> + “Good woman,” she said to the peasant, “will you give me + as many cherries as my frock will hold?” + </p> + <p> + And she raised her little skirt with her two hands. The woman threw in two + or three handfuls of cherries. With one hand Honey-Bee held the uplifted + skirt and with the other she offered the woman a gold piece. + </p> + <p> + “Is that enough?” + </p> + <p> + The woman clutched the gold piece which would amply have paid not only for + the cherries in the basket but for the tree on which they grew and the + plot of land on which the tree stood. + </p> + <p> + The artful one replied: + </p> + <p> + “I’m satisfied, if only to oblige you, little princess.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, put some more cherries in my brother’s cap,” + said Honey-Bee, “and you shall have another gold piece.” + </p> + <p> + This was done. The peasant woman went on her way meditating in what old + stocking or under what mattress she should hide her two gold pieces. + </p> + <p> + And the two children followed the road eating the cherries and throwing + the stones to the right and the left. George chose the cherries that hung + two by two on one stem and made earrings for his little sister, and he + laughed to see the lovely twin fruit dangle its vermillion beauty against + her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + A pebble stopped their joyous progress. It had got into Honey-Bee’s + little shoe and she began to limp. At every step she took, her golden + curls bobbed against her cheek, and so limping she sat down on a bank by + the roadside. Her brother knelt down and took off the satin shoe. He shook + it and out dropped a little white pebble. + </p> + <p> + “Little brother,” she said as she looked at her feet, “the + next time we go to the lake we’ll put on boots.” + </p> + <p> + The sun was already sinking against the radiant sky; a soft breeze + caressed their cheeks and necks, and so, cheered and refreshed, the two + little travellers proceeded on their way. To make walking easier they went + hand in hand, and they laughed to see their moving shadows melt together + before them. They sang: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Maid Marian, setting forth to find + The mill, with sacks of corn to grind, + Her donkey, Jan, bestrode. + My dainty maiden, Marian, + She mounted on her donkey, Jan, + And took the mill-ward road.* +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Marian’ s’en allant au moulin, + Pour y faire moudre son grain, + Ell monta sur son âne, + Ma p’tite mam’sell’ Marianne! + Ell’ monta sur son âne Martin + Pour aller au moulin. +</pre> + <p> + But Honey-Bee stopped: + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my shoe, my satin shoe,” she cried. And so it + was. The little shoe, whose silken laces had become loose in walking, lay + in the road covered-with dust. Then as she looked back and saw the towers + of the castle of Clarides fade into the distant twilight her heart sank + and the tears came to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The wolves will eat us,” she cried, “and our mother + will never see us again and she will die of grief.” + </p> + <p> + But George comforted her as he put on her shoe. + </p> + <p> + “When the castle bell rings for supper we shall have returned to + Clarides. Come!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The miller saw her coming nigh + And could not well forbear to cry, + Your donkey you must tether. + My dainty maiden, Marian, + Tether you here your donkey, Jan, + Who brought us twain together.* +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Le meunier qui la voit venir + Ne peut s’empêcher de lui dire: + Attachez là votre âne, + Ma p’tite Mam’sell’ Marianne, + Attachez là votre âne Martin + Qui vous mène au moulin. +</pre> + <p> + “The lake, Honey-Bee! See the lake, the lake, the lake!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, George, the lake!” + </p> + <p> + George shouted “hurrah” and flung his hat in the air. + Honey-Bee was too proper to fling hers up also, so taking off the shoe + that wouldn’t stay on she threw it joyfully over her head. + </p> + <p> + There lay the lake in the depths of the valley and its curved and sloping + banks made a framework of foliage and flowers about its silver waves. It + lay there clear and tranquil, and one could see the swaying of the + indistinct green of its banks. + </p> + <p> + But the children could find no path through the underbrush that would lead + to its beautiful waters. + </p> + <p> + While they were searching for one their legs were nipped by some geese + driven by a little girl dressed in a sheepskin and carrying a switch. + George asked her name. + </p> + <p> + “Gilberte.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Gilberte, how can one go to the lake?” + </p> + <p> + “Folks doesn’t go.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because...” + </p> + <p> + “But supposing folks did?” + </p> + <p> + “If folks did there’d be a path, and one would take that path.” + </p> + <p> + George could think of no adequate reply to this guardian of the geese. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go,” he said, “farther on we shall be sure + to find a way through the woods.” + </p> + <p> + “And we will pick nuts and eat them,” said Honey-Bee, “for + I am hungry. The next time we go to the lake we must bring a satchel full + of good things to eat.” + </p> + <p> + “That we will, little sister,” said George. “And I quite + agree with Francoeur, our squire, who when he went to Rome, took a ham + with him, in case he should hunger, and a flask lest he should be thirsty. + But hurry, for it is growing late, though I don’t know the time.” + </p> + <p> + “The shepherdesses know by looking at the sun,” said + Honey-Bee; “but I am not a shepherdess. Yet it seems to me that when + we left the sun was over our head, and now it is down there, far behind + the town and castle of Clarides. I wonder if this happens every day and + what it means?” + </p> + <p> + While they looked at the sun a cloud of dust rose up from the high road, + and they saw some cavaliers with glittering weapons ride past at full + speed. The children hid in the underbrush in great terror. “They are + thieves or probably ogres,” they thought. They were really guards + sent by the Duchess of Clarides in search of the little truants. + </p> + <p> + The two little adventurers found a footpath in the underbrush, not a + lovers’ lane, for it was impossible to walk side by side holding + hands as is the fashion of lovers. Nor could the print of human footsteps + be seen, but only indentations left by innumerable tiny cloven feet. + </p> + <p> + “Those are the feet of little devils,” said Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + “Or deer,” suggested George. + </p> + <p> + The matter was never explained. But what is certain is that the footpath + descended in a gentle slope towards the edge of the lake which lay before + the two children in all its languorous and silent beauty. The willows + surrounded its banks with their tender foliage. The slender blades of the + reeds with their delicate plumes swayed lightly over the water. They + formed tremulous islands about which the water-lilies spread their great + heart-shaped leaves and snow-white flowers. Over these blossoming islands + dragon-flies, all emerald or azure, with wings of flame, sped their shrill + flight in suddenly altered curves. + </p> + <p> + The children plunged their burning feet with joy in the damp sand + overgrown with tufted horse-tails and the reed-mace with its slender + lance. The sweet flag wafted towards them its humble fragrance and the + water plantain unrolled about them its filaments of lace on the margin of + the sleeping waters which the willow-herb starred with its purple flowers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="090 (112K)" src="images/090.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + VIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Wherein we shall see what happened to George of Blanchelande + because he approached the lake in which the nixies dwel +</pre> + <p> + Honey-Bee crossed the sand between two clumps of willows, and the little + spirit of the place leaped into the water in front of her, leaving circles + that grew greater and greater and finally vanished. This spirit was a + little green frog with a white belly. All was silent; a fresh breeze swept + over the clear lake whose every ripple had the gracious curve of a smile. + </p> + <p> + “This lake is pretty,” said Honey-Bee, “but my feet are + bleeding in my little torn shoes, and I am very hungry. I wish I were back + in the castle.” + </p> + <p> + “Little sister,” said George, “sit down on the grass. I + will wrap your feet in leaves to cool them; then I will go in search of + supper for you. High up along the road I saw some ripe blackberries. I + will fetch you the sweetest and best in my hat. Give me your handkerchief; + I will fill it with strawberries, for there are strawberries near here + along the footpath under the shade of the trees. And I will fill my + pockets with nuts.” + </p> + <p> + He made a bed of moss for Honey-Bee under a willow on the edge of the + lake, and then he left her. + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee lay with folded hands on her little mossy bed and watched the + light of the first stars tremble in the pale sky; then her eyes half + closed, and yet it seemed to her as if overhead she saw a little dwarf + mounted on a raven. It was not fancy. For having reined in the black bird + who was gnawing at the bridle, the dwarf stopped just above the young girl + and stared down at her with his round eyes. Whereupon he disappeared at + full gallop. All this Honey-Bee saw vaguely and then she fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + She was still asleep when George returned with the fruit he had gathered, + which he placed at her side. Then he climbed down to the lake while he + waited for her to awaken. The lake slept under its delicate crown of + verdure. A light mist swept softly over the waters. Suddenly the moon + appeared between the branches, and then the waves were strewn as if with + countless stars. + </p> + <p> + But George could see that the lights which irradiated the waters were not + all the broken reflections of the moon, for blue flames advanced in + circles, swaying and undulating as if in a dance. Soon he saw that the + blue flames flickered over the white faces of women, beautiful faces + rising on the crests of the waves and crowned with sea-weeds and + sea-shells, with sea-green tresses floating over their shoulders and veils + flowing from under their breasts that shimmered with pearls. The child + recognised the nixies and tried to flee. But already their cold white arms + had seized him, and in spite of his struggles and cries he was borne + across the waters along the galleries of porphyry and crystal. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="098 (115K)" src="images/098.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + IX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Wherein we shall see how Honey-Bee was taken to the dwarfs +</pre> + <p> + The moon had risen over the lake and the water now only showed broken + reflections of its disc. Honey-Bee still slept. The dwarf who had watched + her came back again on his raven followed this time by a crowd of little + men. They were very little men. Their white beards hung down to their + knees. They looked like old men with the figures of children. By their + leathern aprons and the hammers which hung from their belts one could see + that they were workers in metals. They had a curious gait, for they leaped + to amazing heights and turned the most extraordinary somersaults, and + showed the most inconceivable agility that made them seem more like + spirits than human beings. + </p> + <p> + Yet while cutting their most foolhardy capers they preserved an + unalterable gravity of demeanour, to such a degree that it was quite + impossible to make out their real characters. + </p> + <p> + They placed themselves in a circle about the sleeping child. + </p> + <p> + “Now then,” said the smallest of the dwarfs from the heights + of his plumed charger; “now then, did I deceive you when I said that + the loveliest of princesses was lying asleep on the borders of the lake, + and do you not thank me for bringing you here?” + </p> + <p> + “We thank you, Bob,” replied one of the dwarfs who looked like + an elderly poet, “indeed there is nothing lovelier in the world than + this young damsel. She is more rosy than the dawn which rises on the + mountains, and the gold we forge is not so bright as the gold of her + tresses.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, Pic, nothing can be truer,” cried the dwarfs, + “but what shall we do with this lovely little lady?” + </p> + <p> + Pic, who looked like a very elderly poet, did not reply to this question, + probably because he knew no better than they what to do with this pretty + lady. + </p> + <p> + “Let us build a large cage and put her in,” a dwarf by the + name of Rug suggested. + </p> + <p> + Against this another dwarf called Dig vehemently protested. It was Dig’s + opinion that only wild beasts were ever put into cages, and there was + nothing yet to prove that the pretty lady was one of these. + </p> + <p> + But Rug clung to his idea for the reason possibly that he had no other. He + defended it with much subtlety. Said he: + </p> + <p> + “If this person is not savage she will certainly become so as a + result of the cage, which will be therefore not only useful but + indispensable.” + </p> + <p> + This reasoning displeased the dwarfs, and one of them named Tad denounced + it with much indignation. He was such a good dwarf. He proposed to take + the beautiful child back to her kindred who must be great nobles. + </p> + <p> + But this advice was rejected as being contrary to the custom of the + dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + “We ought to follow the ways of justice not custom,” said Tad. + </p> + <p> + But no one paid any further attention to him and the assembly broke into a + tumult as a dwarf named Pau, a simple soul but just, gave his advice in + these terms: + </p> + <p> + “We must begin by awakening this young lady, seeing she declines to + awake of herself; if she spends the night here her eyelids will be swollen + to-morrow and her beauty will be much impaired, for it is very unhealthy + to sleep in a wood on the borders of a lake.” + </p> + <p> + This opinion met with general approval as it did not clash with any other. + </p> + <p> + Pic, who looked like an elderly poet burdened with care, approached the + young girl and looked at her very intently, under the impression that a + single one of his glances would be quite sufficient to rouse the dreamer + out of the deepest sleep. But Pic was quite mistaken as to the power of + his glance, for Honey-Bee continued to sleep with folded hands. + </p> + <p> + Seeing this the good Tad pulled her gently by her sleeve. Thereupon she + partly opened her eyes and raised herself on her elbow. When she found + herself lying on a bed of moss surrounded by dwarfs she thought what she + saw was nothing but a dream, and she rubbed her eyes to open them, so that + instead of this fantastic vision she should see the pure light of morning + as it entered her little blue room in which she thought she was. For her + mind, heavy with sleep, did not recall to her the adventure of the lake. + But indeed, it was useless to rub her eyes, the dwarfs did not vanish, and + so she was obliged to believe that they were real. + </p> + <p> + Then she looked about with frightened eyes and saw the forest and + remembered. + </p> + <p> + “George! my brother George!” she cried in anguish. The dwarfs + crowded about her, and for fear of seeing them she hid her face in her + hands. + </p> + <p> + “George! George! Where is my brother George?” she sobbed. + </p> + <p> + The dwarfs could not tell her, for the good reason that they did not know. + And she wept hot tears and cried aloud for her mother and brother. + </p> + <p> + Pau longed to weep with her, and in his efforts to console, he addressed + her with rather vague remarks. + </p> + <p> + “Do not distress yourself so much,” he urged, “it would + be a pity for so lovely a young damsel to spoil her eyes with weeping. + Rather tell us your story, which cannot fail to be very amusing. We should + be so pleased.” + </p> + <p> + She did not listen. She rose and tried to escape. But her bare and swollen + feet caused her such pain that she fell on her knees, sobbing most + pitifully. Tad held her in his arms, and Pau tenderly kissed her hand. It + was this that gave her the courage to look at them, and she saw that they + seemed full of compassion. + </p> + <p> + Pic looked to her like one inspired, and yet very innocent, and perceiving + that all these little men were full of compassion for her, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Little men, it is a pity you are so ugly; but I will love you all + the same if you will only give me something to eat, for I am so hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “Bob,” all the dwarfs cried at once, “go and fetch some + supper.” + </p> + <p> + And Bob flew off on his raven. All the same, the dwarfs resented this + small girl’s injustice in finding them ugly. Rug was very angry. Pic + said to himself, “She is only a child, and she does not see the + light of genius which shines in my eyes, and which gives them the power + which crushes as well as the grace which charms.” + </p> + <p> + As for Pau, he thought to himself: “Perhaps it would have been + better if I had not awakened this young lady who finds us ugly.” But + Tad said smiling: + </p> + <p> + “You will find us less ugly, dear young lady, when you love us more.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke Bob re-appeared on his raven. He held a dish of gold on which + were a roast pheasant, an oatmeal cake, and a bottle of claret. He cut + innumerable capers as he laid this supper at the feet of Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + “Little men,” Honey-Bee said as she ate, “your supper is + very good. My name is Honey-Bee; let us go in search of my brother, and + then we will all go together to Clarides where mama is waiting for us in + great anxiety.” + </p> + <p> + But Dig, who was a kind dwarf, represented to Honey-Bee that she was not + able to walk; that her brother was big enough to find his own way; that no + misfortune could come to him in a country in which all the wild beasts had + been destroyed. + </p> + <p> + “We will make a litter,” he added, “and cover it with + leaves and moss, and we will put you on it, and in this way we will carry + you to the mountain and present you to the King of the Dwarfs, according + to the custom of our people.” + </p> + <p> + All the dwarfs applauded. Honey-Bee looked at her aching feet and remained + silent. She was glad to learn that there were no wild beasts in the + country. And on the whole she was willing to trust herself to the kindness + of the dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + They were already busy constructing the litter. Those with hatchets were + felling two young fir trees with resounding blows. This brought back to + Rug his original suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “If instead of a litter we made a cage,” he urged. + </p> + <p> + But he aroused a unanimous protest. Tad looked at him scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “You are more like a human being than a dwarf, Rug,” he said. + “But at least it is to the honour of our race that the most wicked + dwarf is also the most stupid.” + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the task had been accomplished. The dwarfs leaped into the + air and in a bound seized and cut the branches, out of which they deftly + wove a basket chair. Having covered it with moss and leaves, they placed + Honey-Bee upon it, then they seized the two poles, placed them on their + shoulders and, then! off they went to the mountain. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="108 (112K)" src="images/108.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + X + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which we are faithfully told how King Loc received Honey- + Bee of Clarides +</pre> + <p> + They climbed a winding path along the wooded slope of the hill. Here and + there granite boulders, bare and blasted, broke through the grey verdure + of the dwarf oaks, and the sombre purple mountain with its bluish ravines + formed an impassable barrier about the desolate landscape. + </p> + <p> + The procession, preceded by Bob on his feathered steed, passed through a + chasm overgrown with brambles. Honey-Bee, with her golden hair flowing + over her shoulders, looked like the dawn breaking on the mountains, + supposing, of course, that the dawn was ever frightened and called her + mother and tried to escape, for all these things she did as she caught a + confused glimpse of dwarfs, armed to the teeth, lying in ambush along the + windings of the rocks. + </p> + <p> + With bows bent or lance at rest they stood immovable. Their tunics of wild + beast skins and their long knives that hung from their belts gave them a + most terrible appearance. Game, furred and feathered, lay beside them. And + yet these huntsmen, to judge only by their faces, did not seem very grim; + on the contrary, they appeared gentle and grave like the dwarfs of the + forest, whom they greatly resembled. + </p> + <p> + In their midst stood a dwarf full of majesty. He wore a cock feather over + his ear, and on his head a diadem set with enormous gems. His mantle + raised at the shoulder disclosed a muscular arm covered with circlets of + gold. A horn of ivory and chased silver hung from his belt. His left hand + rested on his lance in an attitude of quiet strength, and his right he + held over his eyes so as to look towards Honey-Bee and the light. + </p> + <p> + “King Loc,” said the forest dwarfs, “we have brought you + the beautiful child we have found; her name is Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “You have done well,” said King Loc. “She shall live + amongst us according to the custom of the dwarfs.” + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee,” he said, approaching her, “you are welcome.” + He spoke very gently, for he already felt very kindly towards her. He + lifted himself on the tips of his toes to kiss her hand that hung at her + side, and he assured her not only that he would do her no harm, but that + he would try to gratify all her wishes, even should she long for + necklaces, mirrors, stuffs from Cashmere and silks from China. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had some shoes,” replied Honey-Bee. Upon which King + Loc struck his lance against a bronze disc that hung on the surface of the + rock, and instantly something bounded like a ball out of the depths of the + cavern. Increasing in size it disclosed the face of a dwarf with features + such as painters give to the illustrious Belisarius, but his leather apron + proclaimed that he was a shoemaker. He was indeed the chief of the + shoemakers. + </p> + <p> + “True,” said the king, “choose the softest leather out + of our store-houses, take cloth-of-gold and silver, ask the guardian of my + treasures for a thousand pearls of the finest water, and with this + leather, these fabrics, and these pearls create a pair of shoes for the + lady Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + At these words True threw himself at the feet of Honey-Bee and measured + them with great care. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” said Honey-Bee, “I want the pretty + shoes you promised at once, because as soon as I have them I must return + to Clarides to my mother.” “You shall have the shoes,” + King Loc replied; “you shall have them to walk about the mountain, + but not to return to Clarides, for never again shall you leave this + kingdom, where we will teach you wonderful secrets still unknown on earth. + The dwarfs are superior to men, and it is your good fortune that you are + made welcome amongst them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my misfortune,” replied Honey-Bee. “Little King + Loc, give me a pair of wooden shoes, such as the peasants wear, and let me + return to Clarides.” + </p> + <p> + But King Loc made a sign with his head to signify that this was + impossible. Then Honey-Bee clasped her hands and said, coaxingly: + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc, let me go and I will love you very much.” + </p> + <p> + “You will forget me in your shining world.” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc, I will never forget you, and I will love you as + much as I love Flying Wind.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is Flying Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “It is my milk-white steed, and he has rose-coloured reins and he + eats out of my hand. When he was very little Francoeur the squire used to + bring him to my room every morning and I kissed him. But now Francceur is + in Rome, and Flying Wind is too big to mount the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + King Loc smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Will you love me more than Flying Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I would,” said Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + “Well said,” cried the King. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I would, but I cannot, I hate you, little King Loc, because + you will not let me see my mother and George again.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is George?” + </p> + <p> + “George is George and I love him.” + </p> + <p> + The friendship of King Loc for Honey-Bee had increased prodigiously in a + few minutes, and as he had already made up his mind to marry her as soon + as she was of age, and hoped through her to reconcile men and dwarfs, he + feared that later on George might become his rival and wreck his plans. It + was because of this that he turned away frowning, his head bowed as if + with care. + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee seeing that she had offended him pulled him gently by his + mantle. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” she said, in a voice both tender and sad, + “why should we make each other unhappy, you and I?” + </p> + <p> + “It is in the nature of things,” replied King Loc. “I + cannot take you back to your mother, but I will send her a dream which + will tell her your fate, dear Honey-Bee, and that will comfort her.” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” and Honey-Bee smiled through her tears, + “what a good idea, but I will tell you just what you ought to do. + You must send my mother a dream every night in which she will see me, and + every night you must send me a dream in which I shall see her.” + </p> + <p> + And King Loc promised, and so said, so done. Every night Honey-Bee saw her + mother, and every night the Duchess saw her daughter, and that satisfied + their love just a little. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="118 (118K)" src="images/118.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which the marvels of the kingdom of the dwarfs are + accurately described as well as the dolls that were given to + Honey-Bee +</pre> + <p> + The kingdom of the dwarfs was very deep and extended under the greater + part of the earth. Though one only caught a glimpse of the sky here and + there through the clefts in the rocks, the roads, the avenues, the palaces + and the galleries of this subterraneous region were not plunged in + absolute darkness. Only a few spaces and caverns were lost in obscurity. + The rest was illumined not by lamps or torches but by stars or meteors + which diffused a strange and fantastic light, and this light revealed the + most astonishing marvels. One saw stupendous edifices hewn out of the + solid rocks, and in some places, palaces cut out of granite, of such + height that their tracery of stone was lost under the arches of this + gigantic cavern in a haze across which fell the orange glimmer of little + stars less lustrous than the moon. + </p> + <p> + There were fortresses in this kingdom, of the most crushing and formidable + dimensions; an amphitheatre in which the stone seats formed a half-circle + whose extent it was impossible to measure at a single glance, and vast + wells with sculptured sides, in which one could descend forever and yet + never reach the bottom. All these structures, so out of proportion it + would seem to the size of the inhabitants, were quite in keeping with + their curious and fantastic genius. + </p> + <p> + Dwarfs in pointed hoods pricked with fern leaves whirled about these + edifices in the airiest fashion. It was common to see them leap up to the + height of two or three storeys from the lava pavement and rebound like + balls, their faces meanwhile preserving that impressive dignity with which + sculptors endow the great men of antiquity. + </p> + <p> + No one was idle and all worked zealously. Entire districts echoed to the + sound of hammers. The shrill discord of machinery broke against the arches + of the cavern, and it was a curious sight to see the crowds of miners, + blacksmiths, gold-beaters, jewellers, diamond polishers handle pickaxes, + hammers, pincers and files with the dexterity of monkeys. However there + was a more peaceful region. + </p> + <p> + Here coarse and powerful figures and shapeless columns loomed in chaotic + confusion, hewn out of the virgin rock, and seemed to date back to an + immemorial antiquity. Here a palace with low portals extended its + ponderous expanse; it was the palace of King Loc. + </p> + <p> + Directly opposite was the house of Honey-Bee, a house or rather a cottage + of one room all hung with white muslin. The furniture of pine-wood + perfumed the room. A glimpse of daylight penetrated through a crevice in + the rock, and on fine nights one could see the stars. + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee had no special attendants, for all the dwarf people were eager + to serve her and to anticipate all her wishes except the single one to + return to earth. + </p> + <p> + The most erudite dwarfs, familiar with the pro-foundest secrets, were glad + to teach her, not from books, for dwarfs do not write, but by showing her + all the plants of mountains and plains, all the diverse species of + animals, and all the varied gems that are extracted from the bosom of the + earth. And it was by means of such sights and marvels that they taught + her, with an innocent gaiety, the wonders of nature and the processes of + the arts. + </p> + <p> + They made her playthings such as the richest children on earth never have; + for these dwarfs were always industrious and invented wonderful machinery. + In this way they produced for her dolls that could move with exquisite + grace, and express themselves according to the strictest rules of poetry. + Placed on the stage of a little theatre, the scenery of which represented + the shores of the sea, the blue sky, palaces and temples, they would + portray the most interesting events. Though no taller than a man’s + arm some of them represented respectable old men, others men in the prime + of life, and, others still, beautiful young girls dressed in white. + </p> + <p> + Among them also were mothers pressing their innocent children to their + hearts. And these eloquent dolls acted as if they were really moved by + hate, love and ambition. They passed with the greatest skill from joy to + sorrow and they imitated nature so well that they could move one to + laughter or to tears. Honey-Bee clapped her hands at the sight. She had a + horror of the dolls who tried to be tyrants. On the other hand she felt a + boundless compassion for a doll who had once been a princess, and who, now + a captive widow, had no other resource alas, by which to save her child, + than to marry the barbarian who had made her a widow. + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee never tired of this game which the dolls could vary + indefinitely. The dwarfs also gave concerts and taught her to play the + lute, the viola, the theorbo, the lyre, and various other instruments. + </p> + <p> + In short she became an excellent musician, and the dramas acted in the + theatre by the dolls taught her a knowledge of men and life. King Loc was + always present at the plays and the concerts, but he neither saw nor heard + anything but Honey-Bee; little by little he had set his whole heart upon + her. In the meantime months passed and even years sped by and Honey-Bee + was still among the dwarfs, always amused and yet always longing for + earth. She grew to be a beautiful girl. Her singular destiny had imparted + something strange to her appearance, which gave her, however, only an + added charm. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="126 (118K)" src="images/126.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which the treasures of King Loc are described as well as + the writer is able +</pre> + <p> + Six years to a day had passed since Honey-Bee had come to live with the + dwarfs. King Loc called her into his palace and commanded his treasurer to + displace a huge stone which seemed cemented into the wall, but which in + reality was only lightly placed there. All three passed through the + opening left by the great stone and found themselves in a fissure of rock + too narrow for two persons to stand abreast. King Loc preceded the others + along the dim path and Honey-Bee followed him holding to a tip of the + royal mantle. They walked on for a long time, and at intervals the sides + of the rocks came so close together that the young girl was seized with + terror lest she should be unable to advance or recede, and so would die + there. Before her, along the dark and narrow road floated the mantle of + King Loc. At last King Loc came to a bronze door which he opened and out + of which poured a blaze of light. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” said Honey-Bee, “I had no idea that + light could be so beautiful!” + </p> + <p> + And King Loc taking her by the hand led her into the hall out of which the + light shone. + </p> + <p> + “See!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee, dazzled, could sec nothing, for this immense hall, supported by + high marble columns, was a glitter of gold from floor to roof. + </p> + <p> + At the end on a dais made of glittering gems set in gold and silver, the + steps of which were covered by a carpet of marvellous embroidery, stood a + throne of ivory and gold under a canopy of translucent enamel, and on each + side two palm-trees three thousand years old, in gigantic vases carved in + some bygone time by the greatest artists among the dwarfs. King Loc + mounted his throne and commanded the young girl to stand at his right + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee,” said King Loc, “these are my treasures. + Choose all that will give you pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + Immense gold shields hung from the columns and reflected the sunlight, and + sent it back in glittering rays; swords and lances crossed had each a + flame at their point. + </p> + <p> + Tables along the walls were laden with tankards, flagons, ewers, chalices, + pyxes, patens, goblets, gold cups, drinking horns of ivory with silver + rings, enormous bottles of rock crystal, chased gold and silver dishes, + coffers, reliquaries in the form of churches, scent-boxes, mirrors, + candelabra and torch-holders equally beautiful in material and + workmanship, and incense-burners in the shape of monsters. And on one + table stood a chessboard with chessmen carved out of moonstones. + </p> + <p> + “Choose,” King Loc repeated. + </p> + <p> + But lifting her eyes above these treasures, Honey-Bee saw the blue sky + through an opening in the roof, and as if she had comprehended that the + light of day could alone give all these things their splendour, she said + simply: + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc, I want to return to earth.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon King Loc made a sign to his treasurer who, raising heavy + tapestries, disclosed an enormous iron-bound coffer covered with plates of + open ironwork. This coffer being opened out poured thousands of rays of + different and lovely tints, and each ray seemed to leap out of a precious + stone most artistically cut. King Loc dipped in his hands and there flowed + in glittering confusion violet amethysts and virgins’ stones, + emeralds of three kinds, one dark green, another called the honey emerald + because of its colour, and the third a bluish green, also called beryl, + which gives happy dreams; oriental topazes, rubies beautiful as the blood + of heroes, dark blue sapphires, called the male sapphire, and the pale + blue ones, called the female sapphire, the cymophanes, hyacinths, + euclases, turquoises, opals whose light is softer than the dawn, the + aquamarine and the Syrian garnet. All these gems were of the purest and + most luminous water. And in the midst of these coloured fires great + diamonds flashed their rays of dazzling white. + </p> + <p> + “Choose, Honey-Bee,” said King Loc. But Honey-Bee shook her + head. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” she said, “I would rather have a + single beam of sunlight that falls on the roof of Clarides than all these + gems.” + </p> + <p> + Then King Loc ordered another coffer to be opened, in which were only + pearls. But these pearls were round and pure; their changing light + reflected all the colours of sea and sky, and their radiance was so tender + that they seemed to express a thought of love. + </p> + <p> + “Accept these,” said King Loc + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” Honey-Bee replied, “these pearls are + like the glance of George of Blanchelande; I love these pearls, but I love + his eyes even more.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing these words King Loc turned his head away. However he opened a + third coffer and showed the young girl a crystal in which a drop of water + had been imprisoned since the beginning of time; and when the crystal was + moved the drop of water could be seen to stir. He also showed her pieces + of yellow amber in which insects more brilliant than jewels had been + imprisoned for thousands of years. One could distinguish their delicate + feet and their fine antennae, and they would have resumed their flight had + some power but shattered like glass their perfumed prison. + </p> + <p> + “These are the great marvels of nature; I give them to you, + Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” Honey-Bee replied, “keep your amber + and your crystal, for I should not know how to give their freedom either + to the fly or the drop of water.” + </p> + <p> + King Loc watched her in silence for some time. Then he said, “Honey-Bee, + the most beautiful treasures will be safe in your keeping. You will + possess them and they will not possess you. The miser is the prey of his + gold, only those who despise wealth can be rich without danger; their + souls will always be greater than their riches.” + </p> + <p> + Having uttered these words he made a sign to his treasurer who presented + on a cushion a crown of gold to the young girl. + </p> + <p> + “Accept this jewel as a sign of our regard for you,” said King + Loc. “Henceforth you shall be called the Princess of the Dwarfs.” + </p> + <p> + And he himself placed the crown on the head of Honcy-Bee. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="134 (119K)" src="images/134.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which King Loc declares himself +</pre> + <p> + The dwarfs celebrated the crowning of their first princess by joyous + revels. Harmless and innocent games succeeded each other in the huge + amphitheatre; and the little men, with cockades of fern or two oak leaves + fastened coquettishly to their hoods, bounded gaily across the + subterranean streets. The rejoicings lasted thirty days. During the + universal excitement Pic looked like a mortal inspired; Tad the + kind-hearted was intoxicated by the universal joy; Dig the tender gave + expression to his delight in tears; Rug, in his ecstasy, again demanded + that Honey-Bee should be put in a cage, but this time so that the dwarfs + need not be afraid to lose so charming a princess; Bob, mounted on his + raven, filled the air with such cries of rapture that the sable bird, + infected by the gaiety, gave vent to innumerable playful little croaks. + </p> + <p> + Only King Loc was sad. + </p> + <p> + On the thirtieth day, having given the princess and the dwarf people a + festival of unparalleled magnificence, he mounted his throne, and so stood + that his kind face just reached her car. + </p> + <p> + “My Princess Honcy-Bee,” he said, “I am about to make a + request which you are at liberty either to accept or to refuse. Honey-Bee + of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs, will you be my wife?” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, King Loc, grave and tender, had something of the gentle + beauty of a majestic poodle. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” Honey-Bee replied, as she pulled his beard, + “I am willing to become your wife for fun, but never your wife for + good. The moment you asked me to marry you I was reminded of Francoeur, + who when I was on earth used to amuse me by telling me the most ridiculous + stories.” + </p> + <p> + At these words King Loc turned his head away, but not so soon but that + Honey-Bee saw the tears in his eyes. Then Honey-Bee was grieved because + she had pained him. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” she said to him, “I love you for the + little King Loc you are; and if you make me laugh as Francoeur did, there + is nothing in that to vex you, for Francoeur sang well and he would have + been very handsome if it had not been for his grey hair and his red nose.” + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs,” the king + replied, “I love you in the hope that some day you will love me. And + yet without that hope I should love you just the same. The only return I + ask for my friendship is that you will always be honest with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc, I promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, tell me truly, Honey-Bee, do you love some one else + enough to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc, I love no one enough for that.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon King Loc smiled, and seizing his golden cup he proposed, with a + resounding voice, the health of the Princess of the Dwarfs. An immense + uproar rose from the depths of the earth, for the banquet table reached + from one end to the other of the Empire of the Dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="140 (115K)" src="images/140.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XIV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which we are told how Honey-Bee saw her mother again, but + could not embrace her +</pre> + <p> + Honey-Bee, a crown on her head, was now more often sad and lost in thought + than when her hair flowed loose over her shoulders, and when she went + laughing to the forge and pulled the beards of her good friends Pic, Tad + and Dig, whose faces, red from the reflected flames, gave her a gay + welcome. But now these good dwarfs, who had once danced her on their knees + and called her Honey-Bee, bowed as she passed and maintained a respectful + silence. She grieved because she was no longer a child, and she suffered + because she was the Princess of the Dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + It was no longer a pleasure for her to see King Loc, since she had seen + him weep because of her. But she loved him, for he was good and unhappy. + One day, if one may say that there are days in the empire of the dwarfs, + she took King Loc by the hand and drew him under the cleft in the rock, + through which a sunbeam shone, along whose rays there danced a haze of + golden dust. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” she said, “I suffer. You are a king + and you love me and I suffer.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing these words from the pretty damsel, King Loc replied: + </p> + <p> + “I love you, Honey-Bee of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs; and that + is why I have held you captive in our world, in order to teach you our + secrets, which are greater and more wonderful than all those you could + learn on earth amongst men, for men are less skilful and less learned than + the dwarfs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Honey-Bee, “but they are more like me than + the dwarfs, and for that reason I love them better. Little King Loc, let + me see my mother again if you do not wish me to die.” + </p> + <p> + Without replying King Loc went away. Honey-Bee, desolate and alone, + watched the ray of light which bathes the whole face of nature and which + enfolds all the living, even to the beggars by the wayside, in its + resplendent waves. Slowly this ray paled, and its golden radiance faded to + a pale blue light. Night had come upon earth. A star twinkled over the + cleft in the rock. + </p> + <p> + Then some one gently touched her on the shoulder, and she saw King Loc + wrapped in a black cloak. He had another cloak on his arm with which he + covered the young girl. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said he. + </p> + <p> + And he led her out of the under-world. When she saw again the trees + stirred by the wind, the clouds that floated across the moon, the + splendour of the night so fresh and blue, when she breathed again the + fragrance of the herbage, and when the air she had breathed in childhood + again entered her breast in floods, she gave a great sigh and thought to + die of joy. + </p> + <p> + King Loc had taken her in his arms; small though he was, he carried her as + lightly as a feather, and they glided over the ground like the shadows of + two birds. + </p> + <p> + “You shall see your mother again, Honey-Bee. But listen! You know + that every night I send her your image. Every night she sees your dear + phantom; she smiles upon it, she talks to it and she caresses it. To-night + she shall, instead, see you yourself. You will see her, but you must not + touch her, you must not speak to her, or the charm will be broken and she + will never again see you nor your image, which she does not distinguish + from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will be prudent, alas! little King Loc!... See! See!...” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough the watch-tower of Clarides rose black on the hill. Honey-Bee + had hardly time to throw a kiss to the beloved old stone walls when the + ramparts of the town of Clarides, overgrown with gillyflowers already flew + past; already she was ascending the terrace, where the glow-worms glimmer + in the grass, to the postern, which King Loc easily opened, for the dwarfs + are masters of metals, nor can locks, padlocks, bolts, chains or bars ever + stop them. + </p> + <p> + She climbed the winding stairs that led to her mother’s room, and + she paused to clasp her beating heart with both her hands. Softly the door + opened, and by the light of a night lamp that hung from the ceiling she + saw her mother in the holy silence that reigned, her mother frailer and + paler, with hair grey at the temples, but in the eyes of her daughter more + beautiful even than in past days as she remembered her riding fearlessly + in magnificent attire. As usual the mother beheld her daughter as in a + dream, and she opened her arms as if to caress her. And the child, + laughing and sobbing, was about to throw herself into those open arms; but + King Loc tore her away, and like a wisp of straw he bore her through the + blue landscape to the Kingdom of the Dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="148 (116K)" src="images/148.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which we shall see how King Loc suffered +</pre> + <p> + Seated on the granite step of the underground palace, Honey-Bee watched + the blue sky through the cleft in the rock, I and saw the elder-trees turn + their spreading white parasols to the light. She began to weep. + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee,” said King Loc as he took her hand in his, “why + do you weep, and what is it you desire?” And as she had been + grieving these many days, the dwarfs at her feet tried to cheer her with + simple airs on the flute, the flageolet, the rebeck, and the cymbals. And + other dwarfs, to amuse her, turned such somersaults one after the other + that they pricked the grass with the points of their hoods with their + cockades of leaves, and nothing could be more charming than to watch the + capers of these tiny men with their venerable beards. Tad so kind and Dig + so wise, who had loved her since the day they had found her asleep on the + shore of the lake, and Pic, the elderly poet, gently took her arm and + implored her to tell them the cause of her grief. Pau, a simple just soul, + offered her a basket of grapes, and all of them gently pulled the edge of + her skirt and said with King Loc: + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee, Princess of the Dwarfs, why do you weep?” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” Honey-Bee replied, “and you, little + men, my grief only increases your love, because you are good; you weep + with me. Know that I weep when I think of George of Blanchelande, who + should now be a cavalier, but whom I shall never see again. I love him and + I wish to be his wife.” + </p> + <p> + King Loc took his hand away from the hand he had pressed. + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee,” he said, “why did you deceive me when you + told me at the banquet that you loved no one else?” + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc,” Honey-Bee replied, “I did not deceive + you at the banquet. At that time I had no desire to marry George of + Blanchelande, but to-day it is my dearest wish that he should ask to marry + me. But he will never ask me, as I do not know where he now is, nor does + he know where I am. And this is the reason I weep.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the musicians ceased playing; the acrobats interrupted + their tumbling and stood immovable, some on their heads and some on their + haunches; Tad and Dig shed silent tears on the sleeve of Honey-Bee; Pau, + simple soul, dropped his basket of grapes, and all the little men gave + vent to the most fearful groans. + </p> + <p> + But King Loc, more unhappy than all under his splendid jewelled crown, + silently withdrew, his mantle trailing behind him like a purple torrent. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="156 (114K)" src="images/156.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XVI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which an account is given of the learned Nur who was the + cause of such extraordinary joy to King Loc +</pre> + <p> + King Loc did not permit the young girl to observe his weakness; but when + he was alone he sat on the ground and with his feet in his hands gave way + to grief. He was jealous. “She loves him,” he said to himself, + “and she does not love me! And yet I am a king and very wise; great + treasures are mine and I know the most marvellous secrets. I am superior + to all other dwarfs, who are in turn superior to all men. She does not + love me but she loves a young man who not only has not the learning of the + dwarfs, but no other learning either. + </p> + <p> + “It must be acknowledged that she does not appreciate merit—nor + has she much sense. I ought to laugh at her want of judgment; but I love + her and I care for nothing in the world because she does not love me.” + </p> + <p> + For many long days King Loc roamed alone through the most desolate + mountain passes, turning over in his mind thoughts both sad and, + sometimes, wicked. He even thought of trying by imprisonment and + starvation to force Honey-Bee to become his wife. But rejecting this plan + as soon as formed he decided to go in search of her and throw himself at + her feet. But he could come to no decision, and at last he was quite at a + loss what to do. The truth being that whether Honey-Bee would love him did + not depend on him. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly his anger turned against George of Blanchelande; and he hoped + that the young man had been carried far away by some enchanter, and that + at any rate, should he ever hear of Honey-Bee’s love, he would + disdain it. + </p> + <p> + “Without being old,” the king meditated, “I have already + lived too long not to have suffered sometimes. And yet my sufferings, + intense though they were, were less painful than those of which I am + conscious to-day. With the tenderness and pity which caused them was + mingled something of their own divine sweetness. Now, on the contrary, my + grief has the baseness and bitterness of an evil desire. My soul is + desolate and the tears in my eyes are like an acid that burns them.” + </p> + <p> + So thought King Loc. And fearing that jealousy might make him unjust and + wicked he avoided meeting the young girl, for fear that in spite of + himself, he might use towards her the language of a man either weak or + brutal. + </p> + <p> + One day when he was more than ever tormented by the thought that Honey-Bec + loved George, he decided to consult Nur, the most learned of all the + dwarfs, who lived at the bottom of a well deep down in the bowels of the + earth. + </p> + <p> + This well had the advantage of an even and soft temperature. It was not + dark, for two little stars, a pale sun and a red moon, alternately + illumined all parts. King Loc descended into the well and found Nur in his + laboratory. Nur looked like a kind little old man, and he wore a sprig of + wild thyme in his hood. In spite of his learning he had the innocence and + candour characteristic of his race. + </p> + <p> + “Nur,” said the king as he embraced him, “I have come to + consult you because you know many things.” + </p> + <p> + “King Loc,” replied Nur, “I might know a good deal and + yet be an idiot. But I possess the knowledge of how to learn some of the + innumerable things I do not know, and that is the reason I am so justly + famous for my learning.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said King Loc, “can you tell me the + whereabouts at present of a young man by the name of George of + Blanchelande?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know and I never cared to know,” replied Nur. + “Knowing as I do the ignorance, stupidity and wickedness of mankind, + I don’t trouble myself as to what they say or do. Humanity, King + Loc, would be entirely deplorable and ridiculous if it were not that + something of value is given to this proud and miserable race, inasmuch as + the men are endowed with courage, the women with beauty, and the little + children with innocence. Obliged by necessity, as are also the dwarfs, to + toil, mankind has rebelled against this divine law, and instead of being, + like ourselves, willing and cheerful toilers, they prefer war to work, and + they would rather kill each other than help each other. But to be just one + must admit that their shortness of life is the principal cause of their + ignorance and cruelty. Their life is too short for them to learn how to + live. The race of the dwarfs who dwell under the earth is happier and + better. If we are not immortal we shall at least last as long as the earth + which bears us in her bosom, and which permeates us with her intimate and + fruitful warmth, while for the races born on her rugged surface she has + only the turbulent winds which sometimes scorch and sometimes freeze, and + whose breath is at once the bearer of death and of life. And yet men owe + to their overwhelming miseries and wickedness a virtue which makes the + souls of some amongst them more beautiful than the souls of dwarfs. And + this virtue, O King Loc, which for the mind is what the soft radiance of + pearls is for the eyes, is pity. It is taught by suffering, and the dwarfs + know it but little, because being wiser than men they escape much anguish. + Yet sometimes the dwarfs leave their deep grottoes and seek the pitiless + surface of the earth to mingle with men so as to love them, to suffer with + them and through them, and thus to feel this pity which refreshes the soul + like a heavenly dew. This is the truth concerning men, King Loc. But did + you not ask me as to the exact fate of some one amongst them?” + </p> + <p> + King Loc having repeated his question, Nur looked into one of the many + telescopes which filled the room. For the dwarfs have no books, those + which are found amongst them have come from men, and are only used as + playthings. They do not learn as we do by consulting marks on paper, but + they look through telescopes and see the subject itself of their inquiry. + The only difficulty is to choose the right telescope and get the right + focus. + </p> + <p> + There are telescopes of crystal, of topaz and of opal; but those whose + lens is a great polished diamond are more powerful, and permit them to see + the most distant objects. + </p> + <p> + The dwarfs also have lenses of a translucent substance unknown to men. + These enable the sight to pass through rocks and walls as if they were + glass. Others, more remarkable still, reconstruct as accurately as a + mirror all that has vanished with the flight of time. For the dwarfs, in + the depths of their caverns, have the power to recall from the infinite + surface of the ether the light of immemorial days and the forms and + colours of vanished times. They can create for themselves a phantasm of + the past by re-arranging the splinters of light which were once shattered + against the forms of men, animals, plants and rocks, so that they again + flash across the centuries through the unfathomable ether. + </p> + <p> + The venerable Nur excelled in discovering figures of antiquity and even + such, inconceivable though it may seem, as lived before the earth had + assumed the shape with which we are familiar. So it was really no trouble + at all for him to find George of Blanchelande. + </p> + <p> + Having looked for a moment through a very ordinary telescope indeed, he + said to King Loc: + </p> + <p> + “King Loc, he for whom you search is with the nixies in their palace + of crystal, from which none ever return, and whose iridescent walls adjoin + your kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he there?” cried the king, “Let him stay!” and + he rubbed his hands. “I wish him joy.” + </p> + <p> + And having embraced the venerable dwarf, he emerged out of the well + roaring with laughter. + </p> + <p> + The whole length of the road he held his sides so as to laugh at his ease; + his head shook, and his beard swung backwards and forwards on his stomach. + How he laughed! The little men who met him laughed out of sheer sympathy. + Seeing them laugh made others laugh. A contagion of laughter spread from + place to place until the whole interior of the earth was shaken as if with + a mighty and jovial hiccough. Ha! ha! ha! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="166 (103K)" src="images/166.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XVII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which tells of the wonderful adventure of George of + Blanchelande +</pre> + <p> + King Loc did not laugh long; indeed he hid the face of a very unhappy + little man under the bed-clothes. + </p> + <p> + He lay awake all night long thinking of George of Blanchelande, the + prisoner of the nixies. + </p> + <p> + So about the hour when such of the dwarfs as have a dairymaid for + sweetheart go in her stead to milk the cows while she sleeps in her white + bed with folded hands, little King Loc again sought the astute Nur in the + depths of his well. + </p> + <p> + “You did not tell me, Nur, what he is doing down there with the + nixies?” + </p> + <p> + The venerable Nur was quite convinced that the king was mad, though that + did not alarm him because he knew if King Loc should lose his reason he + would be a most gracious, charming, amiable and kindly lunatic. The + madness of the dwarfs is gentle like their reason, and full of the most + delicious fancies. But King Loc was not mad; at least not more so than + lovers usually are. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to speak of George of Blanchelande,” he said to the + venerable Nur, who had forgotten all about this young man as soon as + possible. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Nur the wise placed a series of lenses and mirrors before the + king in an order so exact that it looked like disorder, but which enabled + him to show the king in a mirror the form of George of Blanchelande as he + was when the nixies carried him away. By a lucky choice and a skilful + adjustment of instruments the dwarf was able to reproduce for the + love-sick king all the adventures of the son of that Countess to whom a + white rose announced her end. And the following, expressed in words, is + what the little man saw in all the reality of form and colour. + </p> + <p> + When George was borne away in the icy arms of the daughters of the lake + the water pressed upon his eyes and his breast and he felt that he was + about to die. And yet he heard songs that sounded like a caress and his + whole being was permeated by a sense of delicious freshness. When he + opened his eyes he found himself in a grotto whose crystal columns + reflected the delicate tints of the rainbow. At the end of the grotto was + a great sea shell of mother-of-pearl iridescent with the tenderest + colours, and this served as a dais to the throne of coral and seaweed of + the Queen of the Nixies. But the face of the Sovereign of the waters shone + with a light more tender than either the mother-of-pearl or the crystal. + She smiled at the child which her women brought her, and her green eyes + lingered long upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Friend,” she said at last, “be welcome into our world, + in which you shall be spared all sorrow. For you neither dry lessons nor + rough sports; nothing coarse shall remind you of earth and its toil, for + you only the songs and the dances and the love of the nixies.” + </p> + <p> + And indeed the women of the green hair taught the child music and dancing + and a thousand graces. They loved to bind his forehead with the cockle + shells that decked their own tresses. But he, remembering his country, + gnawed his clenched hands with impatience. + </p> + <p> + Years passed and George longed with a passion unceasing to see the earth + again, the rude earth where the sun burns and where the snow hardens, the + mother earth where one suffers, where one loves, the earth where he had + seen Honey-Bee, and where he longed to see her again. He had in the + meantime grown to be a tall lad with a fine golden down on his upper lip. + Courage came with the beard, and so one day he presented himself before + the Queen of the Nixies and bowing low, said: + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I have come, with your gracious permission, to take leave of + you; I am about to return to Clarides.” + </p> + <p> + “Fair youth,” the queen replied smiling, “I cannot grant + you the leave you ask, for I guard you in my crystal palace, to make of + you my lover.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he replied, “I am not worthy of so great an + honour.” + </p> + <p> + “That is but your courtesy. What gallant cavalier ever believes that + he has sufficiently deserved his lady’s favour. Besides you are + still too young to know your own worth. Let me tell you, fair youth, that + we do but desire your welfare; obey your lady and her alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I love Honey-Bee of Clarides. I will have no other lady but + her.” + </p> + <p> + “A mortal maid!” the queen cried, turning pale, but more + beautiful still, “a coarse daughter of men, this Honey-Bee! How can + you love such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, but I know that I love her.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. It will pass.” + </p> + <p> + And she still held the young man captive by means of the allurements of + her crystal abode. + </p> + <p> + He did not comprehend the devious thing called a woman; he was more like + Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes than Tannhauser in the enchanted + castle. And that is why he wandered sadly along the walls of the mighty + palace searching for an outlet through which to escape; but he only saw + the splendid and silent empire of the waves sealing his shining prison. + Through the transparent walls he watched the blooming sea anemones and the + spreading coral, while over the delicate streams of the madrepores and the + sparkling shells, purple, blue, and gold fishes made a glitter of stars + with a stroke of their tails. These marvels he left unheeded, for, lulled + by the delicious songs of the nixies, he felt little by little his will + broken and his soul grow weak. He was all indolence and indifference when + one day he found by chance in a gallery of the palace, an ancient + well-worn book bound in pigskin and studded with great copper nail-heads. + The book, saved from some wreck in mid-ocean, treated of chivalry and fair + ladies, and related at great length the adventures of heroes who went + about the world redressing wrongs, protecting widows and succouring + orphans for the love of justice and in honour of beauty. George flushed + and paled with wonder, shame, and anger as he read these tales of splendid + adventures. He could not contain himself. + </p> + <p> + “I also,” he cried, “will be a gallant knight. I also + will go about the world punishing the wicked and succouring the + unfortunate for the good of mankind and in the name of my lady Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + With sword drawn and his heart big with valour he dashed across the + crystal dwellings. The white ladies fled and swooned before him like the + silver ripples of a lake. Their queen alone beheld his approach without a + tremor; she turned on him the icy glance of her green eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Break the enchantment which binds me,” he cried, running + towards her. “Open to me the road to earth. I wish to fight in the + light of the sun like a cavalier. I wish to return to where one loves, to + where one suffers, to where one struggles! Give back to me the life that + is real and the light that is real. Give mc back my prowess! If not, I + will kill you, you wicked woman!” + </p> + <p> + With a smile she shook her head as if to refuse. Beautiful she was and + serene. With all the strength that was in him George struck her; but his + sword broke against her glittering breast. + </p> + <p> + “Child!” she said, and she commanded that he be cast into a + dungeon which formed a kind of crystal tunnel under her palace, and about + which sharks roamed with wide-stretched monstrous jaws armed with triple + rows of pointed teeth. At every touch it seemed as if they must crush the + frail glass wall, which made it impossible to sleep in this strange + prison. + </p> + <p> + The extremity of this under-sea tunnel rested on a bed of rock which + formed the vaulting of the most distant and unexplored cavern in the + empire of the dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + And this is what the two little men saw in a single hour and quite as + accurately as if they had followed George all the days of his life. The + venerable Nur, having described the dungeon scene in all its tragic gloom, + addressed the King in much the same way as the Savoyards speak to the + little children when they show their magic lanterns. + </p> + <p> + “King Loc,” he said, “I have shown you all you wished to + see, and now that you know all I can add nothing more. It’s nothing + to me whether you liked what you saw; it is enough to know that what you + saw was the truth. Science neither cares to please nor to displease. She + is inhuman. It is not science but poetry that charms and consoles. And + that is why poetry is more necessary than science. Go, King Loc, and get + them to sing you a song.” + </p> + <p> + And without uttering a word King Loc left the well. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="178 (118K)" src="images/178.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XVIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which King Loc undertakes a terrible journey +</pre> + <p> + Having left the well of wisdom, King Loc went to his treasure house and + out of a casket, of which he alone had the key, he took a ring which he + placed on his finger. The stone set in the ring emitted a brilliant light, + for it was a magic stone of whose power we shall learn more further on. + Thereupon King Loc went to his palace, put on a travelling cloak and thick + boots and took a stick; then he started on a journey across crowded + streets, great highways, villages, galleries of porphyry, torrents of + rock-oil, and crystal grottoes, all of which communicated with each other + through narrow openings. + </p> + <p> + He seemed lost in deep meditation and he uttered words that had no + meaning. But he trudged on doggedly. Mountains obstructed his path and he + climbed the mountains. Precipices opened under his feet and he descended + into the precipices; he forded streams, he crossed horrible regions black + with the fumes of sulphur. He trudged across burning lava on which his + feet left their imprint; he had the appearance of a desperately dogged + traveller. He penetrated into gloomy caverns into which the water of the + ocean oozed drop by drop, and flowed like tears along the sea wrack, + forming pools on the uneven ground where countless crustaceans increased + and multiplied into hideous shapes. Enormous crabs, crayfish, giant + lobsters and sea spiders crackled under the dwarfs feet, then crawled away + leaving some of their claws behind, and in their flight rousing horrible + molluscs and octopuses centuries old that suddenly writhed their hundred + arms and spat fetid poison out of their bird-beaks. And yet King Loc went + on undaunted. He made his way to the ends of these caverns, through the + midst of a heaped up chaos of shelled monsters armed with spikes, with + double saw-edged nippers, with claws that crept stealthily up to his neck + and bleared eyes on swaying tentacles. He crept up the sides of the cavern + by clinging to the rough surface of the rocks and the mailed monsters + crept with him, but he never faltered until he recognised by touch a stone + that projected from the centre of the natural arch. He touched the stone + with his magic ring and suddenly it rolled away with a horrible crash, and + at once a glory of light flooded the cavern with its beautiful waves and + put to flight the swarming monsters bred in its gloom. + </p> + <p> + As King Loc thrust his head into the opening through which daylight + poured, he saw George of Blanchelande in his glass dungeon where he was + lamenting grievously as he thought of Honey-Bee and of earth. For King Loc + had undertaken this subterranean journey only to deliver the captive of + the nixies. + </p> + <p> + But seeing this huge dishevelled head, frowning and bearded, watching him + from under his tunnel, George believed himself to be menaced by a mighty + danger and he felt for the sword at his side forgetting that he had broken + it against the breast of the woman with the green eyes. In the meantime + King Loc examined him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Bah,” said he to himself, “it is only a child!” + And indeed he was only an ignorant child, and it was because of his great + ignorance that he had escaped from the deadly and delicious kisses of the + Queen of the Nixies. Aristotle with all his wisdom might not have done so + well. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want, fathead?” George cried, seeing himself + defenceless, “why harm me if I have never harmed you?” + </p> + <p> + “Little one,” King Loc replied in a voice at once jovial and + testy, “you do not know whether or not you have harmed me, for you + are ignorant of effects and causes and reflections, and all philosophy in + general. But we’ll not talk of that. If you don’t mind leaving + your tunnel, come this way.” + </p> + <p> + George at once crept into the cavern, slipped down the length of the wall, + and as soon as he had reached the bottom he said to his deliverer: + </p> + <p> + “You are a good little man; I shall love you for ever; but do you + know where Honey-Bee of Clarides is?” + </p> + <p> + “I know a great many things,” retorted the dwarf, “and + especially that I don’t like people who ask questions.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing this George paused in great confusion and followed his guide in + silence through the dense black air where the octopuses and crustaceans + writhed. King Loc said mockingly: + </p> + <p> + “This is not a carriage road, young prince.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” George replied, “the road to liberty is always + beautiful, and I fear not to be led astray when I follow my benefactor.” + </p> + <p> + Little King Loc bit his lips. On reaching the gallery of porphyry he + pointed out to the youth a flight of steps cut in the rock by the dwarfs, + by which they ascend to earth. + </p> + <p> + “This is your way,” he said, “farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not bid me farewell,” George replied, “say I shall + see you again. After what you have done my life is yours.” + </p> + <p> + “What I have done,” King Loc replied, “I have not done + for your sake, but for another’s. It will be better for us never to + meet again, for we can never be friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not have believed that my deliverance could have caused me + such pain,” George said simply and gravely, “and yet it does. + Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “A pleasant journey,” cried King Loc, in a gruff voice. + </p> + <p> + Now it happened that these steps of the dwarfs adjoined a deserted stone + quarry less than a mile from the castle of Clarides. + </p> + <p> + “This young lad,” King Loc murmured as he went on his way, + “has neither the wisdom nor the wealth. Truly I cannot imagine why + Honey-Bee loves him, unless it is because he is young, handsome, faithful + and brave.” + </p> + <p> + As he went back to the town he laughed to himself as a man does who has + done some one a good turn. As he passed Honey-Bee’s cottage he + thrust his big head into the open window just as he had thrust it into the + crystal tunnel, and he saw the young girl, who was embroidering a veil + with silver flowers. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you joy, Honey-Bee,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “And you also, little King Loc, seeing you have nothing to wish for + and nothing to regret.” + </p> + <p> + He had much to wish for, but, indeed, he had nothing to regret. And it was + probably this which gave him such a good appetite for supper. Having eaten + a huge number of truffled pheasants he called Bob. + </p> + <p> + “Bob,” said he, “mount your raven; go to the Princess of + the Dwarfs and tell her that George or Blanchelande, long a captive of the + nixies, has this day returned to Clarides.” + </p> + <p> + Thus he spoke and Bob flew off on his raven. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="188 (107K)" src="images/188.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XIX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which tells of the extraordinary encounter of Jean the + master tailor, and of the blessed song the birds in the + grove sang to the duchess +</pre> + <p> + When George again found himself on the earth on which he was born, the + very first person he met was Jean, the master tailor, with a red suit of + clothes on his arm for the steward of the castle. The good man shrieked at + sight of his young master. + </p> + <p> + “Holy St. James,” he cried, “if you are not his lordship + George of Blanchelande who was drowned in the lake seven years ago, you + are either his ghost or the devil in person.” + </p> + <p> + “I am neither ghost nor devil, good Jean, but I am truly that same + George of Blanchelande who used to creep to your shop and beg bits of + stuff out of which to make dresses for the dolls of my sister Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you were not drowned, your lordship,” the good man + exclaimed. “I am so glad! And how well you look. My little Peter who + climbed into my arms to see you pass on horseback by the side of the + Duchess that Sunday morning has become a good workman and a fine fellow. + He is all of that, God be praised, your lordship. He will be glad to hear + that you are not at the bottom of the sea, and that the fish have not + eaten you as he always declared. He was in the habit of saying many + pleasant things about it, your lordship, for he is very amusing. And it is + a fact that you are much mourned in Clarides. You were such a promising + child. I shall remember to my dying day how you once asked me for a needle + to sew with, and as I refused, for you were not of an age to use it + without danger, you replied you would go to the woods and pick beautiful + green pine needles. That is what you said, and it still makes me laugh. + Upon my soul you said that. Our little Peter, also, used to say clever + things. Now he is a cooper and at your service, your lordship.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall employ no one else. But give me news of Honey-Bee and the + Duchess, Master Jean.” + </p> + <p> + “Alack, where do you come from, your lordship, seeing that you do + not know that it is now seven years since the Princess Honey-Bee was + stolen by the dwarfs of the mountain? She disappeared the very day you + were drowned; and one can truly say that on that day Clarides lost its + sweetest flowers. The Duchess is in deep mourning. And it’s that + which makes me say that the great of the earth have their sorrows just as + well as the humblest artisans, if only to prove that we are all the sons + of Adam. And because of this a cat may well look at a king, as the saying + is. And by the same token the good Duchess has seen her hair grow white + and her gaiety vanish. And when in the springtime she walks in her black + robes along the hedgerow where the birds sing, the smallest of these is + more to be envied than the sovereign lady of Clarides. And yet her grief + is not quite without hope, your lordship; for though she had no tidings of + you, she at least knows by dreams that her daughter Honey-Bee is alive.” + </p> + <p> + This and much else said good man Jean, but George listened no longer after + he heard that Honey-Bee was a captive among the dwarfs. + </p> + <p> + “The dwarfs hold Honey-Bee captive under the earth,” he + pondered; “a dwarf rescued me from my crystal dungeon; these little + men have not all the same customs; my deliverer cannot be of the same race + as those who stole my sister.” + </p> + <p> + He knew not what to think except that he must rescue Honey-Bee. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime they crossed the town, and on their way the gossips + standing on the thresholds of their houses asked each other who was this + young stranger, but they all agreed that he was very handsome. The better + informed amongst them, having recognised the young lord of Blanchelande, + decided that it must be his ghost, wherefore they fled, making great signs + of the cross. + </p> + <p> + “He must be sprinkled with holy water,” said one old crone, + “and he will vanish leaving a disgusting smell of sulphur. He will + carry away Master Jean, and he will of course plunge him alive into the + fire of hell.” + </p> + <p> + “Softly! old woman,” a citizen replied, “his lordship is + alive and much more alive than you or I. He is as fresh as a rose, and he + looks as if he had come from some noble court rather than from the other + world. One does return from afar, good dame. As witness Francoeur the + squire who came back from Rome last midsummer day.” + </p> + <p> + And Margaret the helmet-maker, having greatly admired George, mounted to + her maiden chamber and kneeling before the image of the Holy Virgin + prayed, “Holy Virgin, grant me a husband who shall look precisely + like this young lord.” + </p> + <p> + So each in his way talked of George’s return until the news spread + from mouth to mouth and finally reached the ears of the Duchess who was + walking-in the orchard. Her heart beat violently and she heard all the + birds in the hedge-row sing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Cui, cui, cui, + Oui, oui, oui, + Georges de Blanchelande, + Cui, cui, cui. + Dont vous avez nourri l’enfance + Cui, cui, cui, + Est ici, est ici, est ici! + Oui, oui, oui.” + </pre> + <p> + Francoeur approached her respectfully and said: “Your Grace, George + de Blanchelande whom you thought dead has returned. I shall make it into a + song.” In the meantime the birds sang: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Cucui, cui, cui, cui, cui, + Oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, + Il est ici, ici, ici, ici, ici, ici.” + </pre> + <p> + And when she saw the child who had been to her as a son, she opened her + arms and fell senseless at his feet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="196 (101K)" src="images/196.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which treats of a little satin shoe +</pre> + <p> + Everybody in Clarides was quite convinced that Honey-Bee had been stolen + by the dwarfs. Even the Duchess believed it, though her dreams did not + tell her precisely. “We will find her again,” said George. + “We will find her again,” replied Francoeur. “And we + will bring her back to her mother,” said George. + </p> + <p> + “And we will bring her back,” replied Francoeur. “And we + will marry her,” said George. + </p> + <p> + “And we will marry her,” replied Francoeur. And they inquired + among the inhabitants as to the habits of the dwarfs and the mysterious + circumstances of Honey-Bee’s disappearance. + </p> + <p> + And so it happened that they questioned Nurse Maurille who had once been + the nurse of the Duchess of Clarides; but now as she had no more milk for + babies Maurille instead nursed the chickens in the poultry yard. It was + there that the master and squire found her. She cried: “Psit! Psit! + psit! psit! lil—lil—lil—lil—psit, psit, psit, + psit!” as she threw grain to the chicks. + </p> + <p> + “Psit, psit, psit, psit! Is it you, your lordship? Psit, psit, psit! + Is it possible that you have grown so tall—psit! and so handsome? + Psit, psit! Shoo! shoo, shoo! Just look at that fat one there eating the + little one’s portion! Shoo, shoo, shoo! The way of the world, your + lordship. Riches go the rich, lean ones grow leaner, while the fat ones + grow fatter. There’s no justice on earth! What can I do for you, my + lord? May I offer you each a glass of beer?” + </p> + <p> + “We will accept it gladly, Maurille, and I must embrace you because + you nursed the mother of her whom I love best on earth.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true, my lord, my foster child cut her first tooth at + the age of six months and fourteen days. On which occasion the deceased + duchess made me a present. She did indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Maurille, tell us all you know about the dwarfs who carried + away Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, my lord, I know nothing of the dwarfs who carried her away. + And how can you expect an old woman like me to know anything? It’s + ages ago since I forgot the little I ever knew, and I haven’t even + enough memory left to remember where I put my spectacles. Sometimes I look + for them when they’re on my nose. Try this drink; it’s fresh.” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s to your health, Maurille; but I was told that your + husband knew something about the disappearance of Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true, your lordship. Though he never was taught + anything he learnt a great deal in the pothouses and the taverns. And he + never forgot anything. Why if he were alive now and sitting at this table + he could tell you stories until to-morrow. He used to tell me so many that + they quite muddled my head and even now I can’t tell the tail of one + from the head of the other. That’s true, your lordship.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, it was true, for the head of the old nurse could only be compared + to a cracked soup-pot. It was with the greatest difficulty that George and + Francoeur got anything good out of it. Finally, however, by means of much + repetition they did extract a tale which began somewhat as follows: + </p> + <p> + “It’s seven years ago, your lordship, the very day you and + Honey-Bee went on that frolic from which neither of you ever returned. My + deceased husband went up the mountain to sell a horse. That’s the + truth. He fed the beast with a good peck of oats soaked in cider to give + him a firm leg and a brilliant eye; he took him to market near the + mountain. He had no cause to regret his oats or his cider, for he sold his + horse for a much better price. Beasts are like human beings; one judges + them by their appearance. My deceased husband was so rejoiced at his good + stroke of business that he invited his friends to drink with him, and + glass in hand he drank to their health. + </p> + <p> + “You must know, your lordship, that there wasn’t a man in all + Clarides could equal my husband when glass in hand he drank to the health + of his friends. So much so that on that day, after a number of such + compliments, when he returned alone at twilight he took the wrong road for + the reason that he could not recognise the right one. Finding himself near + a cavern he saw as distinctly as possible, considering his condition and + the hour, a crowd of little men carrying a girl or a boy on a litter. He + ran away for fear of ill-luck; for the wine had not robbed him of + prudence. But at some distance from the cavern he dropped his pipe, and on + stooping to pick it up he picked up instead a little satin shoe. When he + was in a good humour he used to amuse himself by saying, ‘It’s + the first time a pipe has changed into a shoe.’ And as it was the + shoe of a little girl he decided that she who had lost it in the forest + was the one who had been carried away by the dwarfs and that it was this + he had seen. He was about to put the shoe into his pocket when a crowd of + little men in hoods pounced down on him and gave him such a thrashing that + he lay there quite stunned.” + </p> + <p> + “Maurille! Maurille!” cried George, “it’s + Honey-Bee’s shoe. Give it to me and I will kiss it a thousand times. + It shall rest for ever on my heart, and when I die it shall be buried with + me.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please, your lordship; but where will you find it? The + dwarfs took it away from my poor husband and he always thought that they + only gave him such a sound thrashing because he wanted to put it in his + pocket to show to the magistrates. He used to say when he was in a good + humour——” + </p> + <p> + “Enough—enough! Only tell me the name of the cavern!” + </p> + <p> + “It is called the cavern of the dwarfs, your lordship, and very well + named too. My deceased husband——” + </p> + <p> + “Not another word, Maurille! But you. Francoeur, do you know where + this cavern is?” + </p> + <p> + “Your lordship,” replied Francoeur as he emptied the pot of + beer, “you would certainly know it if you knew my songs better. I + have written at least a dozen about this cavern, and I’ve described + it without even forgetting a single sprig of moss. I venture to say, your + lordship, that of these dozen songs, six are of great merit. And even the + other six are not to be despised. I will sing you one or two....” + </p> + <p> + “Francoeur,” cried George, “we will take possession of + this cavern of the dwarfs and rescue Honey-Bee.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course we will!” replied Francoeur. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="204 (118K)" src="images/204.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XXI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which a perilous adventure is described +</pre> + <p> + That night when all were asleep George and Francoeur crept into the lower + hall in search of weapons. Lances, swords, dirks, broadswords, + hunting-knives and daggers glittered under the time-stained rafters—everything + necessary to kill both man and brute. A complete suit of armour stood + upright under each beam in an attitude as resolute and proud as if it were + still filled with the soul of the brave man it had once decked for mighty + adventures. The gauntlet grasped the lance in its ten iron fingers, while + the shield rested against the plates of the greaves as if to prove that + prudence is necessary to courage, and that the best fighter is armed as + well for defence as for attack. + </p> + <p> + From among all these suits of armour George chose the one that Honey-Bee’s + father had worn as far away as the isles of Avalon and Thule. He donned it + with the aid of Francoeur, nor did he forget the shield on which was + emblazoned the golden sun of Clarides. As for Francoeur, he put on a good + old steel coat of mail of his grandfather’s and on his head a casque + of a bygone time, to which he attached a ragged and moth-eaten tuft or + plume. This he chose merely as a matter of fancy and to give himself an + air of rejoicing, for, as he justly reasoned, gaiety, which is good under + every circumstance, is especially so in the face of great dangers. + </p> + <p> + Having thus armed themselves they passed under the light of the moon into + the dark open country. Francoeur had fastened the horses on the edge of a + little grove near the postern, and there he found them nibbling at the + bark of the bushes; they were swift steeds, and it took them less than an + hour to reach the mountain of the dwarfs, through a crowd of goblins and + phantoms. + </p> + <p> + “Here is the cave,” said Francoeur. + </p> + <p> + Master and man dismounted and, sword in hand, penetrated into the cavern. + It required great courage to attempt such an adventure; but George was in + love and Francoeur was faithful, and this was a case in which one could + say with the most delightful of poets: + </p> + <p> + “What may not friendship do with Love for guide!” + </p> + <p> + Master and man had trudged through the gloom for nearly an hour when they + were astonished to see a brilliant light. It was one of the meteors which + we know illumines the kingdom of the dwarfs. By the light of this + subterranean luminary they discovered that they were standing at the foot + of an ancient castle. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said George, “is the castle we must capture.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said Francceur; “but first permit me to + drink a few drops of this wine which I brought with me as a precaution, + because the better the wine the better the man, and the better the man the + better the lance, the better the lance the less dangerous the enemy.” + </p> + <p> + George, seeing no living soul, struck the hilt of his sword sharply + against the door of the castle. He looked up at the sound of a little + tremulous voice, and he saw at one of the windows a little old man with a + long beard, who asked: + </p> + <p> + “Who are you!” + </p> + <p> + “George of Blanchelande.” + </p> + <p> + “And who do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “I have come to deliver Honey-Bee of Clarides whom you unjustly hold + captive in your mole-hill, hideous little moles that you are!” + </p> + <p> + The dwarf disappeared and again George was left alone with Francoeur who + said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Your lordship, possibly I may exaggerate if I remark that in your + answer to the dwarf you have not quite exhausted all the persuasive powers + of eloquence.” + </p> + <p> + Francoeur was afraid of nothing, but he was old; his heart like his head + was polished by age, and he disliked to offend people. + </p> + <p> + As for George he stormed and clamoured at the top of his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Vile dwellers in the earth, moles, badgers, dormice, ferrets, and + water-rats, open the door and I’ll cut off all your ears.” + </p> + <p> + But hardly had he uttered these words when the bronze door of the castle + slowly opened of itself, for no one could be seen pushing back its + enormous wings. + </p> + <p> + George was seized with terror and yet he sprang through the mysterious + door because his courage was even greater than his terror. Entering the + courtyard he saw that all the windows, the galleries, the roofs, the + gables, the skylights, and even the chimney-pots, were crowded with dwarfs + armed with bows and cross-bows. + </p> + <p> + He heard the bronze door close behind him and suddenly a shower of arrows + fell thick and fast on his head and shoulders, and for the second time he + was filled with a great fear, and for the second time he conquered his + fear. + </p> + <p> + Sword in hand and his shield on his arm he mounted the steps until + suddenly he perceived on the very highest, a majestic dwarf who stood + there in serene dignity, gold sceptre in hand and wearing the royal crown + and the purple mantle. And in this dwarf he recognised the little man who + had delivered him out of his crystal dungeon. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he threw himself at his feet and cried weeping: + </p> + <p> + “O my benefactor, who are you? Are you one of those who have robbed + me of Honey-Bee, whom I love?” + </p> + <p> + “I am King Loc,” replied the dwarf. “I have kept + Honey-Bee with me to teach her the wisdom of the dwarfs. Child, you have + fallen into my kingdom like a hail-storm in a garden of flowers. But the + dwarfs, less weak than men, are never angered as are they. My intelligence + raises me too high above you for me to resent your actions whatever they + are. And of all the attributes that render me superior to you that which I + guard most jealously is justice. Honey-Bee shall be brought before me and + I will ask her if she wishes to follow you. This I do, not because you + desire it, but because I must.” + </p> + <p> + A great silence ensued and Honey-Bee appeared attired all in white and + with flowing golden hair. No sooner did she see George than she ran and + threw herself in his arms and clasped his iron breast with all her + strength. + </p> + <p> + Then King Loc said to her: + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee, is it true that this is the man you wish to marry?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true, very true that this is he, little King Loc,” + replied Honey-Bee. “See, all you little men, how I laugh and how + happy I am.” + </p> + <p> + And she began to weep. Her tears fell on her lover’s face, but they + were tears of joy; and with them were mingled tiny bursts of laughter and + a thousand endearing words without sense, like the lisp of a little child. + She quite forgot that the sight of her joy might sadden the heart of King + Loc. + </p> + <p> + “My beloved,” said George, “I find you again such as I + had longed for: the fairest and dearest of beings. You love me! Thank + heaven, you love me! But, Honey-Bee, do you not also love King Loc a + little, who delivered me out of the glass dungeon in which the nixies held + me captive far away from you?” + </p> + <p> + Honey-Bee turned to King Loc. + </p> + <p> + “Little King Loc, and did you do this?” she cried. “You + loved me, and yet you rescued the one I love and who loves me——” + </p> + <p> + Words failed her and she fell on her knees, her head in her hands. + </p> + <p> + All the little men who witnessed this scene deluged their cross-bows with + tears. Only King Loc remained serene. And Honcy-Bee, overcome by his + magnanimity and his goodness, felt for him the love of a daughter for a + father. + </p> + <p> + She took her lover’s hand. + </p> + <p> + “George,” she said, “I love you. God knows how much I + love you. But how can I leave little King Loc?” + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, there?” King Loc cried in a terrible voice, “now + you are my prisoners!” + </p> + <p> + But this terrible voice he only used for fun and just as a joke, for he + really was not at all angry. Here Francoeur approached and knelt before + him. + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” he cried, “may it please your Majesty to let me + share the captivity of the masters I serve?” + </p> + <p> + Said Honey-Bee, recognising him: + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, my good Francoeur? How glad I am to see you again. What + a horrid cap you’ve got on! Tell me, have you composed any new + songs?” + </p> + <p> + And King Loc took them all three to dinner. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img alt="214 (116K)" src="images/214.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + XXII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In which all ends well +</pre> + <p> + The next morning Honey-Bee, George and Francoeur again arrayed themselves + in the splendid garments prepared for them by the dwarfs, and proceeded to + the banquet-hall where, as he had promised, King Loc, in the robes of an + Emperor, soon joined them. He was followed by his officers fully armed, + and covered with furs of barbarous magnificence, and in their helmets the + wings of swans. Crowds of hurrying dwarfs came in through the windows, the + air-holes and the chimneys, and rolled under the benches. + </p> + <p> + King Loc mounted a stone table one end of which was laden with flagons, + candelabra, tankards, and cups of gold of marvellous workmanship. He + signed to Honey-Bee and to George to approach. + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee,” he said, “by a law of the nation of the + dwarfs it is decreed that a stranger received in our midst shall be free + after seven years. You have been with us seven years, Honey-Bee, and I + should be a disloyal citizen and a blameworthy king should I keep you + longer. But before permitting you to go I wish, not having been able to + wed you myself, to betroth you to the one you have chosen. I do so with + joy for I love you more than I love myself, and my pain, if such remains, + is like a little cloud which your happiness will dispel. Honey-Bee of + Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs, give me your hand, and you, George of + Blanchelande, give me yours.” + </p> + <p> + Placing the hand of George in the hand of Honey-Bee he turned to his + people and said with a ringing voice: + </p> + <p> + “Little men, my children, you bear witness that these two pledge + themselves to marry one another on earth. They shall go back together and + together help courage, modesty, and fidelity to blossom, as roses, pinks, + and peonies bloom for good gardeners.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the dwarfs burst into a mighty shout, but not knowing if + they ought to grieve or to rejoice, they were torn by conflicting + emotions. + </p> + <p> + King Loc, again turning to the lovers, said as he pointed to the flagons, + the tankards, all the beautiful art of the goldsmith: + </p> + <p> + “Behold the gifts of the dwarfs. Take them, Honey-Bee, they will + remind you of your little friends. It is their gift to you, not mine. What + I am about to give you, you shall know before long.” + </p> + <p> + A lengthy silence ensued. + </p> + <p> + With an expression sublime in its tenderness, King Loc gazed at Honey-Bee, + whose beautiful and radiant head, crowned by roses, rested on her lover’s + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Then he continued: + </p> + <p> + “My children, it is not enough to love passionately; you must also + love well. A passionate love is good doubtless, but a beautiful love is + better. May you have as much strength as gentleness; may it lack nothing, + not even forbearance, and let even a little compassion be mingled with it. + You are young, fair and good; but you are human, and because of this + capable of much suffering. If then something of compassion does not enter + into the feelings you have one for the other, these feelings will not + always befit all the circumstances of your life together; they will be + like festive robes that will not shield you from wind and rain. We love + truly only those we love even in their weakness and their poverty. To + forbear, to forgive, to console, that alone is the science of love.” + </p> + <p> + King Loc paused, seized by a gentle but strong emotion. + </p> + <p> + “My children,” he then continued; “may you be happy; + guard your happiness well, guard it well.” + </p> + <p> + While he addressed them Pic, Tad, Dig, Bob, True, and Pau clung to + Honey-Bee’s white mantle and covered her hands and arms with kisses + and they implored her not to leave them. Thereupon King Loc took from his + girdle a ring set with a glittering gem. It was the magic ring which had + unclosed the dungeon of the nixies. He placed it on Honey-Bee’s + finger. + </p> + <p> + “Honey-Bee,” he said, “receive from my hand this ring + which will permit you, you and your husband, to enter at any hour the + kingdom of the dwarfs. You will be welcomed with joy and succoured at + need. In return teach the children that will be yours not to despise the + little men, so innocent and industrious, who dwell under the earth.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Honey-Bee, by Anatole France + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HONEY-BEE *** + +***** This file should be named 25405-h.htm or 25405-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/4/0/25405/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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