Graciosa and Percinet

GRACIOSA AND PERCINET

Once upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had one charming

daughter. She was so graceful and pretty and clever that she was called

Graciosa, and the Queen was so fond of her that she could think of

nothing else.

Every day she gave the Princess a lovely new frock of gold brocade, or

satin, or velvet, and when she was hungry she had bowls full of

sugar-plums, and at least twenty pots of jam. Everybody said she was

the happiest Princess in the world. Now there lived at this same court

a very rich old duchess whose name was Grumbly. She was more frightful

than tongue can tell; her hair was red as fire, and she had but one

eye, and that not a pretty one! Her face was as broad as a full moon,

and her mouth was so large that everybody who met her would have been

afraid they were going to be eaten up, only she had no teeth. As she

was as cross as she was ugly, she could not bear to hear everyone

saying how pretty and how charming Graciosa was; so she presently went

away from the court to her own castle, which was not far off. But if

anybody who went to see her happened to mention the charming Princess,

she would cry angrily:

‘It’s not true that she is lovely. I have more beauty in my little

finger than she has in her whole body.’

Soon after this, to the great grief of the Princess, the Queen was

taken ill and died, and the King became so melancholy that for a whole

year he shut himself up in his palace. At last his physicians, fearing

that he would fall ill, ordered that he should go out and amuse

himself; so a hunting party was arranged, but as it was very hot

weather the King soon got tired, and said he would dismount and rest at

a castle which they were passing.

This happened to be the Duchess Grumbly’s castle, and when she heard

that the King was coming she went out to meet him, and said that the

cellar was the coolest place in the whole castle if he would condescend

to come down into it. So down they went together, and the King seeing

about two hundred great casks ranged side by side, asked if it was only

for herself that she had this immense store of wine.

‘Yes, sire,’ answered she, ‘it is for myself alone, but I shall be most

happy to let you taste some of it. Which do you like, canary, St.

Julien, champagne, hermitage sack, raisin, or cider?’

‘Well,’ said the King, ‘since you are so kind as to ask me, I prefer

champagne to anything else.’

Then Duchess Grumbly took up a little hammer and tapped upon the cask

twice, and out came at least a thousand crowns.

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ said she smiling.

Then she tapped the next cask, and out came a bushel of gold pieces.

‘I don’t understand this at all,’ said the Duchess, smiling more than

before.

Then she went on to the third cask, tap, tap, and out came such a

stream of diamonds and pearls that the ground was covered with them.

‘Ah!’ she cried, ‘this is altogether beyond my comprehension, sire.

Someone must have stolen my good wine and put all this rubbish in its

place.’

‘Rubbish, do you call it, Madam Grumbly?’ cried the King. ‘Rubbish! why

there is enough there to buy ten kingdoms.’

‘Well,’ said she, ‘you must know that all those casks are full of gold

and jewels, and if you like to marry me it shall all be yours.’

Now the King loved money more than anything else in the world, so he

cried joyfully:

‘Marry you? why with all my heart! to-morrow if you like.’

‘But I make one condition,’ said the Duchess; ‘I must have entire

control of your daughter to do as I please with her.’

‘Oh certainly, you shall have your own way; let us shake hands upon the

bargain,’ said the King.

So they shook hands and went up out of the cellar of treasure together,

and the Duchess locked the door and gave the key to the King.

When he got back to his own palace Graciosa ran out to meet him, and

asked if he had had good sport.

‘I have caught a dove,’ answered he.

‘Oh! do give it to me,’ said the Princess, ‘and I will keep it and take

care of it.’

‘I can hardly do that,’ said he, ‘for, to speak more plainly, I mean

that I met the Duchess Grumbly, and have promised to marry her.’

‘And you call her a dove?’ cried the Princess. ‘I should have called

her a screech owl.’

‘Hold your tongue,’ said the King, very crossly. ‘I intend you to

behave prettily to her. So now go and make yourself fit to be seen, as

I am going to take you to visit her.’

So the Princess went very sorrowfully to her own room, and her nurse,

seeing her tears, asked what was vexing her.

‘Alas! who would not be vexed?’ answered she, ‘for the King intends to

marry again, and has chosen for his new bride my enemy, the hideous

Duchess Grumbly.’

‘Oh, well!’ answered the nurse, ‘you must remember that you are a

Princess, and are expected to set a good example in making the best of

whatever happens. You must promise me not to let the Duchess see how

much you dislike her.’

At first the Princess would not promise, but the nurse showed her so

many good reasons for it that in the end she agreed to be amiable to

her step-mother.

Then the nurse dressed her in a robe of pale green and gold brocade,

and combed out her long fair hair till it floated round her like a

golden mantle, and put on her head a crown of roses and jasmine with

emerald leaves.

When she was ready nobody could have been prettier, but she still could

not help looking sad.

Meanwhile the Duchess Grumbly was also occupied in attiring herself.

She had one of her shoe heels made an inch or so higher than the other,

that she might not limp so much, and put in a cunningly made glass eye

in the place of the one she had lost. She dyed her red hair black, and

painted her face. Then she put on a gorgeous robe of lilac satin lined

with blue, and a yellow petticoat trimmed with violet ribbons, and

because she had heard that queens always rode into their new dominions,

she ordered a horse to be made ready for her to ride.

While Graciosa was waiting until the King should be ready to set out,

she went down all alone through the garden into a little wood, where

she sat down upon a mossy bank and began to think. And her thoughts

were so doleful that very soon she began to cry, and she cried, and

cried, and forgot all about going back to the palace, until she

suddenly saw a handsome page standing before her. He was dressed in

green, and the cap which he held in his hand was adorned with white

plumes. When Graciosa looked at him he went down on one knee, and said

to her:

‘Princess, the King awaits you.’

The Princess was surprised, and, if the truth must be told, very much

delighted at the appearance of this charming page, whom she could not

remember to have seen before. Thinking he might belong to the household

of the Duchess, she said:

‘How long have you been one of the King’s pages?’

‘I am not in the service of the King, madam,’ answered he, ‘but in

yours.’

‘In mine?’ said the Princess with great surprise. ‘Then how is it that

I have never seen you before?’

‘Ah, Princess!’ said he, ‘I have never before dared to present myself

to you, but now the King’s marriage threatens you with so many dangers

that I have resolved to tell you at once how much I love you already,

and I trust that in time I may win your regard. I am Prince Percinet,

of whose riches you may have heard, and whose fairy gift will, I hope,

be of use to you in all your difficulties, if you will permit me to

accompany you under this disguise.’

‘Ah, Percinet!’ cried the Princess, ‘is it really you? I have so often

heard of you and wished to see you. If you will indeed be my friend, I

shall not be afraid of that wicked old Duchess any more.’

So they went back to the palace together, and there Graciosa found a

beautiful horse which Percinet had brought for her to ride. As it was

very spirited he led it by the bridle, and this arrangement enabled him

to turn and look at the Princess often, which he did not fail to do.

Indeed, she was so pretty that it was a real pleasure to look at her.

When the horse which the Duchess was to ride appeared beside

Graciosa’s, it looked no better than an old cart horse, and as to their

trappings, there was simply no comparison between them, as the

Princess’s saddle and bridle were one glittering mass of diamonds. The

King had so many other things to think of that he did not notice this,

but all his courtiers were entirely taken up with admiring the Princess

and her charming Page in green, who was more handsome and

distinguished-looking than all the rest of the court put together.

When they met the Duchess Grumbly she was seated in an open carriage

trying in vain to look dignified. The King and the Princess saluted

her, and her horse was brought forward for her to mount. But when she

saw Graciosa’s she cried angrily:

‘If that child is to have a better horse than mine, I will go back to

my own castle this very minute. What is the good of being a Queen if

one is to be slighted like this?’

Upon this the King commanded Graciosa to dismount and to beg the

Duchess to honour her by mounting her horse. The Princess obeyed in

silence, and the Duchess, without looking at her or thanking her,

scrambled up upon the beautiful horse, where she sat looking like a

bundle of clothes, and eight officers had to hold her up for fear she

should fall off.

Even then she was not satisfied, and was still grumbling and muttering,

so they asked her what was the matter.

‘I wish that Page in green to come and lead the horse, as he did when

Graciosa rode it,’ said she very sharply.

And the King ordered the Page to come and lead the Queen’s horse.

Percinet and the Princess looked at one another, but said never a word,

and then he did as the King commanded, and the procession started in

great pomp. The Duchess was greatly elated, and as she sat there in

state would not have wished to change places even with Graciosa. But at

the moment when it was least expected the beautiful horse began to

plunge and rear and kick, and finally to run away at such a pace that

it was impossible to stop him.

At first the Duchess clung to the saddle, but she was very soon thrown

off and fell in a heap among the stones and thorns, and there they

found her, shaken to a jelly, and collected what was left of her as if

she had been a broken glass. Her bonnet was here and her shoes there,

her face was scratched, and her fine clothes were covered with mud.

Never was a bride seen in such a dismal plight. They carried her back

to the palace and put her to bed, but as soon as she recovered enough

to be able to speak, she began to scold and rage, and declared that the

whole affair was Graciosa’s fault, that she had contrived it on purpose

to try and get rid of her, and that if the King would not have her

punished, she would go back to her castle and enjoy her riches by

herself.

At this the King was terribly frightened, for he did not at all want to

lose all those barrels of gold and jewels. So he hastened to appease

the Duchess, and told her she might punish Graciosa in any way she

pleased.

Thereupon she sent for Graciosa, who turned pale and trembled at the

summons, for she guessed that it promised nothing agreeable for her.

She looked all about for Percinet, but he was nowhere to be seen; so

she had no choice but to go to the Duchess Grumbly’s room. She had

hardly got inside the door when she was seized by four waiting women,

who looked so tall and strong and cruel that the Princess shuddered at

the sight of them, and still more when she saw them arming themselves

with great bundles of rods, and heard the Duchess call out to them from

her bed to beat the Princess without mercy. Poor Graciosa wished

miserably that Percinet could only know what was happening and come to

rescue her. But no sooner did they begin to beat her than she found, to

her great relief, that the rods had changed to bundles of peacock’s

feathers, and though the Duchess’s women went on till they were so

tired that they could no longer raise their arms from their sides, yet

she was not hurt in the least. However, the Duchess thought she must be

black and blue after such a beating; so Graciosa, when she was

released, pretended to feel very bad, and went away into her own room,

where she told her nurse all that had happened, and then the nurse left

her, and when the Princess turned round there stood Percinet beside

her. She thanked him gratefully for helping her so cleverly, and they

laughed and were very merry over the way they had taken in the Duchess

and her waiting-maids; but Percinet advised her still to pretend to be

ill for a few days, and after promising to come to her aid whenever she

needed him, he disappeared as suddenly as he had come.

The Duchess was so delighted at the idea that Graciosa was really ill,

that she herself recovered twice as fast as she would have done

otherwise, and the wedding was held with great magnificence. Now as the

King knew that, above all other things, the Queen loved to be told that

she was beautiful, he ordered that her portrait should be painted, and

that a tournament should be held, at which all the bravest knights of

his court should maintain against all comers that Grumbly was the most

beautiful princess in the world.

Numbers of knights came from far and wide to accept the challenge, and

the hideous Queen sat in great state in a balcony hung with cloth of

gold to watch the contests, and Graciosa had to stand up behind her,

where her loveliness was so conspicuous that the combatants could not

keep their eyes off her. But the Queen was so vain that she thought all

their admiring glances were for herself, especially as, in spite of the

badness of their cause, the King’s knights were so brave that they were

the victors in every combat.

However, when nearly all the strangers had been defeated, a young

unknown knight presented himself. He carried a portrait, enclosed in a

bow encrusted with diamonds, and he declared himself willing to

maintain against them all that the Queen was the ugliest creature in

the world, and that the Princess whose portrait he carried was the most

beautiful.

So one by one the knights came out against him, and one by one he

vanquished them all, and then he opened the box, and said that, to

console them, he would show them the portrait of his Queen of Beauty,

and when he did so everyone recognised the Princess Graciosa. The

unknown knight then saluted her gracefully and retired, without telling

his name to anybody. But Graciosa had no difficulty in guessing that it

was Percinet.

As to the Queen, she was so furiously angry that she could hardly

speak; but she soon recovered her voice, and overwhelmed Graciosa with

a torrent of reproaches.

‘What!’ she said, ‘do you dare to dispute with me for the prize of

beauty, and expect me to endure this insult to my knights? But I will

not bear it, proud Princess. I will have my revenge.’

‘I assure you, Madam,’ said the Princess, ‘that I had nothing to do

with it and am quite willing that you shall be declared Queen of Beauty

‘Ah! you are pleased to jest, popinjay!’ said the Queen, ‘but it will

be my turn soon!’

The King was speedily told what had happened, and how the Princess was

in terror of the angry Queen, but he only said: ‘The Queen must do as

she pleases. Graciosa belongs to her!’

The wicked Queen waited impatiently until night fell, and then she

ordered her carriage to be brought. Graciosa, much against her will,

was forced into it, and away they drove, and never stopped until they

reached a great forest, a hundred leagues from the palace. This forest

was so gloomy, and so full of lions, tigers, bears and wolves, that

nobody dared pass through it even by daylight, and here they set down

the unhappy Princess in the middle of the black night, and left her in

spite of all her tears and entreaties. The Princess stood quite still

at first from sheer bewilderment, but when the last sound of the

retreating carriages died away in the distance she began to run

aimlessly hither and thither, sometimes knocking herself against a

tree, sometimes tripping over a stone, fearing every minute that she

would be eaten up by the lions. Presently she was too tired to advance

another step, so she threw herself down upon the ground and cried

miserably:

‘Oh, Percinet! where are you? Have you forgotten me altogether?’

She had hardly spoken when all the forest was lighted up with a sudden

glow. Every tree seemed to be sending out a soft radiance, which was

clearer than moonlight and softer than daylight, and at the end of a

long avenue of trees opposite to her the Princess saw a palace of clear

crystal which blazed like the sun. At that moment a slight sound behind

her made her start round, and there stood Percinet himself.

‘Did I frighten you, my Princess?’ said he. ‘I come to bid you welcome

to our fairy palace, in the name of the Queen, my mother, who is

prepared to love you as much as I do.’ The Princess joyfully mounted

with him into a little sledge, drawn by two stags, which bounded off

and drew them swiftly to the wonderful palace, where the Queen received

her with the greatest kindness, and a splendid banquet was served at

once. Graciosa was so happy to have found Percinet, and to have escaped

from the gloomy forest and all its terrors, that she was very hungry

and very merry, and they were a gay party. After supper they went into

another lovely room, where the crystal walls were covered with

pictures, and the Princess saw with great surprise that her own history

was represented, even down to the moment when Percinet found her in the

forest.

‘Your painters must indeed be diligent,’ she said, pointing out the

last picture to the Prince.

‘They are obliged to be, for I will not have anything forgotten that

happens to you,’ he answered.

When the Princess grew sleepy, twenty-four charming maidens put her to

bed in the prettiest room she had ever seen, and then sang to her so

sweetly that Graciosa’s dreams were all of mermaids, and cool sea

waves, and caverns, in which she wandered with Percinet; but when she

woke up again her first thought was that, delightful as this fairy

palace seemed to her, yet she could not stay in it, but must go back to

her father. When she had been dressed by the four-and-twenty maidens in

a charming robe which the Queen had sent for her, and in which she

looked prettier than ever, Prince Percinet came to see her, and was

bitterly disappointed when she told him what she had been thinking. He

begged her to consider again how unhappy the wicked Queen would make

her, and how, if she would but marry him, all the fairy palace would be

hers, and his one thought would be to please her. But, in spite of

everything he could say, the Princess was quite determined to go back,

though he at last persuaded her to stay eight days, which were so full

of pleasure and amusement that they passed like a few hours. On the

last day, Graciosa, who had often felt anxious to know what was going

on in her father’s palace, said to Percinet that she was sure that he

could find out for her, if he would, what reason the Queen had given

her father for her sudden disappearance. Percinet at first offered to

send his courier to find out, but the Princess said:

‘Oh! isn’t there a quicker way of knowing than that?’

‘Very well,’ said Percinet, ‘you shall see for yourself.’

So up they went together to the top of a very high tower, which, like

the rest of the castle, was built entirely of rock-crystal.

There the Prince held Graciosa’s hand in his, and made her put the tip

of her little finger into her mouth, and look towards the town, and

immediately she saw the wicked Queen go to the King, and heard her say

to him, ‘That miserable Princess is dead, and no great loss either. I

have ordered that she shall be buried at once.’

And then the Princess saw how she dressed up a log of wood and had it

buried, and how the old King cried, and all the people murmured that

the Queen had killed Graciosa with her cruelties, and that she ought to

have her head cut off. When the Princess saw that the King was so sorry

for her pretended death that he could neither eat nor drink, she cried:

‘Ah, Percinet! take me back quickly if you love me.’

And so, though he did not want to at all, he was obliged to promise

that he would let her go.

‘You may not regret me, Princess,’ he said sadly, ‘for I fear that you

do not love me well enough; but I foresee that you will more than once

regret that you left this fairy palace where we have been so happy.’

But, in spite of all he could say, she bade farewell to the Queen, his

mother, and prepared to set out; so Percinet, very unwillingly, brought

the little sledge with the stags and she mounted beside him. But they

had hardly gone twenty yards when a tremendous noise behind her made

Graciosa look back, and she saw the palace of crystal fly into a

million splinters, like the spray of a fountain, and vanish.

‘Oh, Percinet!’ she cried, ‘what has happened? The palace is gone.’

‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘my palace is a thing of the past; you will see it

again, but not until after you have been buried.’

‘Now you are angry with me,’ said Graciosa in her most coaxing voice,

‘though after all I am more to be pitied than you are.’

When they got near the palace the Prince made the sledge and themselves

invisible, so the Princess got in unobserved, and ran up to the great

hall where the King was sitting all by himself. At first he was very

much startled by Graciosa’s sudden appearance, but she told him how the

Queen had left her out in the forest, and how she had caused a log of

wood to be buried. The King, who did not know what to think, sent

quickly and had it dug up, and sure enough it was as the Princess had

said. Then he caressed Graciosa, and made her sit down to supper with

him, and they were as happy as possible. But someone had by this time

told the wicked Queen that Graciosa had come back, and was at supper

with the King, and in she flew in a terrible fury. The poor old King

quite trembled before her, and when she declared that Graciosa was not

the Princess at all, but a wicked impostor, and that if the King did

not give her up at once she would go back to her own castle and never

see him again, he had not a word to say, and really seemed to believe

that it was not Graciosa after all. So the Queen in great triumph sent

for her waiting women, who dragged the unhappy Princess away and shut

her up in a garret; they took away all her jewels and her pretty dress,

and gave her a rough cotton frock, wooden shoes, and a little cloth

cap. There was some straw in a corner, which was all she had for a bed,

and they gave her a very little bit of black bread to eat. In this

miserable plight Graciosa did indeed regret the fairy palace, and she

would have called Percinet to her aid, only she felt sure he was still

vexed with her for leaving him, and thought that she could not expect

him to come.

Meanwhile the Queen had sent for an old Fairy, as malicious as herself,

and said to her:

‘You must find me some task for this fine Princess which she cannot

possibly do, for I mean to punish her, and if she does not do what I

order, she will not be able to say that I am unjust.’ So the old Fairy

said she would think it over, and come again the next day. When she

returned she brought with her a skein of thread, three times as big as

herself; it was so fine that a breath of air would break it, and so

tangled that it was impossible to see the beginning or the end of it.

The Queen sent for Graciosa, and said to her:

‘Do you see this skein? Set your clumsy fingers to work upon it, for I

must have it disentangled by sunset, and if you break a single thread

it will be the worse for you.’ So saying she left her, locking the door

behind her with three keys.

The Princess stood dismayed at the sight of the terrible skein. If she

did but turn it over to see where to begin, she broke a thousand

threads, and not one could she disentangle. At last she threw it into

the middle of the floor, crying:

‘Oh, Percinet! this fatal skein will be the death of me if you will not

forgive me and help me once more.’

And immediately in came Percinet as easily as if he had all the keys in

his own possession.

‘Here I am, Princess, as much as ever at your service,’ said he,

‘though really you are not very kind to me.’

Then he just stroked the skein with his wand, and all the broken

threads joined themselves together, and the whole skein wound itself

smoothly off in the most surprising manner, and the Prince, turning to

Graciosa, asked if there was nothing else that she wished him to do for

her, and if the time would never come when she would wish for him for

his own sake.

‘Don’t be vexed with me, Percinet,’ she said. ‘I am unhappy enough

without that.’

‘But why should you be unhappy, my Princess?’ cried he. ‘Only come with

me and we shall be as happy as the day is long together.’

‘But suppose you get tired of me?’ said Graciosa.

The Prince was so grieved at this want of confidence that he left her

without another word.

The wicked Queen was in such a hurry to punish Graciosa that she

thought the sun would never set; and indeed it was before the appointed

time that she came with her four Fairies, and as she fitted the three

keys into the locks she said:

‘I’ll venture to say that the idle minx has not done anything at

all—she prefers to sit with her hands before her to keep them white.’

But, as soon as she entered, Graciosa presented her with the ball of

thread in perfect order, so that she had no fault to find, and could

only pretend to discover that it was soiled, for which imaginary fault

she gave Graciosa a blow on each cheek, that made her white and pink

skin turn green and yellow. And then she sent her back to be locked

into the garret once more.

Then the Queen sent for the Fairy again and scolded her furiously.

‘Don’t make such a mistake again; find me something that it will be

quite impossible for her to do,’ she said.

So the next day the Fairy appeared with a huge barrel full of the

feathers of all sorts of birds. There were nightingales, canaries,

goldfinches, linnets, tomtits, parrots, owls, sparrows, doves,

ostriches, bustards, peacocks, larks, partridges, and everything else

that you can think of. These feathers were all mixed up in such

confusion that the birds themselves could not have chosen out their

own. ‘Here,’ said the Fairy, ‘is a little task which it will take all

your prisoner’s skill and patience to accomplish. Tell her to pick out

and lay in a separate heap the feathers of each bird. She would need to

be a fairy to do it.’

The Queen was more than delighted at the thought of the despair this

task would cause the Princess. She sent for her, and with the same

threats as before locked her up with the three keys, ordering that all

the feathers should be sorted by sunset. Graciosa set to work at once,

but before she had taken out a dozen feathers she found that it was

perfectly impossible to know one from another.

‘Ah! well,’ she sighed, ‘the Queen wishes to kill me, and if I must die

I must. I cannot ask Percinet to help me again, for if he really loved

me he would not wait till I called him, he would come without that.’

‘I am here, my Graciosa,’ cried Percinet, springing out of the barrel

where he had been hiding. ‘How can you still doubt that I love you with

all my heart?’

Then he gave three strokes of his wand upon the barrel, and all the

feathers flew out in a cloud and settled down in neat little separate

heaps all round the room.

‘What should I do without you, Percinet?’ said Graciosa gratefully. But

still she could not quite make up her mind to go with him and leave her

father’s kingdom for ever; so she begged him to give her more time to

think of it, and he had to go away disappointed once more.

When the wicked Queen came at sunset she was amazed and infuriated to

find the task done. However, she complained that the heaps of feathers

were badly arranged, and for that the Princess was beaten and sent back

to her garret. Then the Queen sent for the Fairy once more, and scolded

her until she was fairly terrified, and promised to go home and think

of another task for Graciosa, worse than either of the others.

At the end of three days she came again, bringing with her a box.

‘Tell your slave,’ said he, ‘to carry this wherever you please, but on

no account to open it. She will not be able to help doing so, and then

you will be quite satisfied with the result.’ So the Queen came to

Graciosa, and said:

‘Carry this box to my castle, and place it upon the table in my own

room. But I forbid you on pain of death to look at what it contains.’

Graciosa set out, wearing her little cap and wooden shoes and the old

cotton frock, but even in this disguise she was so beautiful that all

the passers-by wondered who she could be. She had not gone far before

the heat of the sun and the weight of the box tired her so much that

she sat down to rest in the shade of a little wood which lay on one

side of a green meadow. She was carefully holding the box upon her lap

when she suddenly felt the greatest desire to open it.

‘What could possibly happen if I did?’ she said to herself. ‘I should

not take anything out. I should only just see what was there.’

And without farther hesitation she lifted the cover.

Instantly out came swarms of little men and women, no taller than her

finger, and scattered themselves all over the meadow, singing and

dancing, and playing the merriest games, so that at first Graciosa was

delighted and watched them with much amusement. But presently, when she

was rested and wished to go on her way, she found that, do what she

would, she could not get them back into their box. If she chased them

in the meadow they fled into the wood, and if she pursued them into the

wood they dodged round trees and behind sprigs of moss, and with peals

of elfin laughter scampered back again into the meadow.

At last, weary and terrified, she sat down and cried.

‘It is my own fault,’ she said sadly. ‘Percinet, if you can still care

for such an imprudent Princess, do come and help me once more.’

Immediately Percinet stood before her.

‘Ah, Princess!’ he said, ‘but for the wicked Queen I fear you would

never think of me at all.’

‘Indeed I should,’ said Graciosa; ‘I am not so ungrateful as you think.

Only wait a little and I believe I shall love you quite dearly.’

Percinet was pleased at this, and with one stroke of his wand compelled

all the wilful little people to come back to their places in the box,

and then rendering the Princess invisible he took her with him in his

chariot to the castle.

When the Princess presented herself at the door, and said that the

Queen had ordered her to place the box in her own room, the governor

laughed heartily at the idea.

‘No, no, my little shepherdess,’ said he, ‘that is not the place for

you. No wooden shoes have ever been over that floor yet.’

Then Graciosa begged him to give her a written message telling the

Queen that he had refused to admit her. This he did, and she went back

to Percinet, who was waiting for her, and they set out together for the

palace. You may imagine that they did not go the shortest way, but the

Princess did not find it too long, and before they parted she had

promised that if the Queen was still cruel to her, and tried again to

play her any spiteful trick, she would leave her and come to Percinet

for ever.

When the Queen saw her returning she fell upon the Fairy, whom she had

kept with her, and pulled her hair, and scratched her face, and would

really have killed her if a Fairy could be killed. And when the

Princess presented the letter and the box she threw them both upon the

fire without opening them, and looked very much as if she would like to

throw the Princess after them. However, what she really did do was to

have a great hole as deep as a well dug in her garden, and the top of

it covered with a flat stone. Then she went and walked near it, and

said to Graciosa and all her ladies who were with her:

‘I am told that a great treasure lies under that stone; let us see if

we can lift it.’

So they all began to push and pull at it, and Graciosa among the

others, which was just what the Queen wanted; for as soon as the stone

was lifted high enough, she gave the Princess a push which sent her

down to the bottom of the well, and then the stone was let fall again,

and there she was a prisoner. Graciosa felt that now indeed she was

hopelessly lost, surely not even Percinet could find her in the heart

of the earth.

‘This is like being buried alive,’ she said with a shudder. ‘Oh,

Percinet! if you only knew how I am suffering for my want of trust in

you! But how could I be sure that you would not be like other men and

tire of me from the moment you were sure I loved you?’

As she spoke she suddenly saw a little door open, and the sunshine

blazed into the dismal well. Graciosa did not hesitate an instant, but

passed through into a charming garden. Flowers and fruit grew on every

side, fountains plashed, and birds sang in the branches overhead, and

when she reached a great avenue of trees and looked up to see where it

would lead her, she found herself close to the palace of crystal. Yes!

there was no mistaking it, and the Queen and Percinet were coming to

meet her.

‘Ah, Princess!’ said the Queen, ‘don’t keep this poor Percinet in

suspense any longer. You little guess the anxiety he has suffered while

you were in the power of that miserable Queen.’

The Princess kissed her gratefully, and promised to do as she wished in

everything, and holding out her hand to Percinet, with a smile, she

said:

‘Do you remember telling me that I should not see your palace again

until I had been buried? I wonder if you guessed then that, when that

happened, I should tell you that I love you with all my heart, and will

marry you whenever you like?’

Prince Percinet joyfully took the hand that was given him, and, for

fear the Princess should change her mind, the wedding was held at once

with the greatest splendour, and Graciosa and Percinet lived happily

ever after.[11]

[11] Gracieuse et Percinet. Mdme. d’Aulnoy.