THE FLOWER PRINCESS
I
ONCE upon a time there was a beautiful Princess named Fleurette, wholived in a white marble palace on the top of a high hill. The PrincessFleurette was very fond of flowers, and all around the palace, from thevery gates thereof, a fair garden, full of all kinds of wonderfulplants, sloped down to the foot of the hill, where it was snuglyinclosed with a high marble wall. Thus the hill was like a great nosegayrising up in the midst of the land, sending out sweet odors to perfumethe air for miles, bright with color in the sunshine, and musical withthe chorus of birds and the hum of millions of bees.
One part of the garden was laid out in walks and avenues, with littlevine-clad bowers here and there, where the Princess could sit and read,or lie and dream. There were fountains and statues among the trees, andeverything grand and stately to make a garden beautiful. Another part ofthe garden was left wild and tangled, like a forest. Here all the shyestflowers grew in their own wild way; and here ran a little brook,gurgling over the pebbles in a race to the foot of the hill. There neverwas seen a more complete and beautiful garden than this of the PrincessFleurette.
Now the fame of the Princess's beauty, like the fragrance of her garden,had been wafted a long way, and many persons came to prove it. Acontinual procession of princes from lands near and far traveled thelong road that wound from the foot of the hill up and up and up to theentrance of the palace. They came upon their noble steeds, with gold andjeweled harness most gorgeous to see, riding curiously up amid theflowers, whose perfume filled their hearts with happiness and hope. Thefurther they rode the more they longed to tarry forever in this fairplace. And when each one at last dismounted at the palace gate, and,going into the great hall, saw the Princess herself, more fair than anyflower, sitting on her golden throne, he invariably fell upon his kneeswithout delay, and begged her to let him be her very ownest Prince.
But the Princess always smiled mischievously and shook her head,saying,--
"I have no mind to exchange hearts, save with him who can find mine,where it is hidden among my flowers. Guess me my favorite flower, dearPrince, and I am yours."
This she said to every prince in turn. She did not greatly care to haveany prince for her very ownest own, for she was happy enough among herflowers without one. But the Prince, whoever he might be, when he heardher strange words, would go out eagerly into the garden and wander,wander long among the flowers, searching to find the sweetest and mostbeautiful, which must be his lady's favorite. And, of course, heselected his own favorite, whatever that was. It might be that he wouldchoose a great, wonderful rose. At the proper time he would kneel andpresent it to the Princess, saying confidently,--
"O fair Princess, surely I have found the flower of your heart. See thebeautiful rose! Give it then to me to wear always, as your very ownestPrince."
But the Princess, glancing at the rose, would shake her head and say,--
"Nay! I love the roses, too. But my heart is not there, O Prince. Youare not to be my lord, or you would have chosen better."
Then she would retire into her chamber, to be no more seen while thatPrince remained in the palace. Presently he would depart, ridingsorrowfully down the hill on his gorgeous steed, amid the laughingflowers. And the Princess would be left to enjoy her garden in peaceuntil the next prince should arrive.
It might be that this one would guess the glorious nodding poppy to behis lady's choice. But he would be no nearer than the other. A latercomer would perhaps choose a gay tulip; another a fair and quiet lily;still another earnest soul would select the passion-flower, noble andmysterious. But at all of these the Princess shook her head and deniedthem. There had never yet come a prince to the hill who found herheart's true flower. And the Princess lived on among her posies, veryhappy and very content, growing fairer and fairer, sweeter and sweeter,with their bloom upon her cheek and their fragrance in her breath. Therenever was seen a more beautiful princess than Fleurette.
Now the Princess loved to rise very early in the morning, before any ofher people were awake, and to steal down by a secret staircase into thegarden while it was yet bright with dew and newly wakened happiness. Sheloved to put on a gown of coarse green stuff, wherein she herself lookedlike a dainty pink and white flower in its sheath, and with a littletrowel to dig in the fragrant mould at the roots of her plants, or trainthe vines with her slender fingers.
No one suspected that she did this, and she would not have had themsuspect it for the world. For if the palace people had known, theywould have followed and annoyed her with attentions and suggestions.They would have brought her gloves to protect her pretty hands, and aveil, and parasol, and a rug upon which to kneel--if kneel shemust--while weeding the flower-beds. Indeed, they would scarcely haveallowed her to do anything at all. For were there not gardeners toattend to all this; and why should she bother herself to do anything butenjoy the blossoms when they were picked for her? They did not know,poor things, that the greatest joy in a flower is to watch and help itgrow from a funny little seed into a leaf, then a tall green stalk, thena waking bud, until finally it keeps the promise of its first sprouting,and becomes a blossom. They did not guess that the happiest hours of thePrincess's life were those which she spent in the early morning tendingher flower-babies, while her fond courtiers, and even the curiousprinces on their way to woo her, were still wasting the best part of theday on lazy pillows. Many a time the Gardener declared that a fairy musttend the royal flowers, so wonderfully did they flourish, free fromweed or worm or withering leaf. It even seemed to him sometimes that hecould trace a delicate perfumed touch which had blessed their leavesbefore his coming. When he told this to Fleurette she only smiledsweetly at him. But in her heart she laughed; for she was a merryPrincess.
One beautiful morning the Princess arose as usual, soon after sunrise,and, putting on her green flower-gown, stole down the secret staircaseinto the garden. There it lay, all fresh and wonderful, sparkling withdiamond dewdrops. The Princess Fleurette walked up and down the paths,smiling at the blossoms, which held up their pretty faces and seemed tosmile back at her, as if she were another flower. Sometimes she kneeleddown on her royal knees in the gravel, bending over to kiss the flowerswith her red lips. Sometimes she paused to punish a greedy worm, or arude weed which had crowded in among the precious roots. Sometimes withher little golden scissors she snipped off a withered leaf or a fadedflower of yesterday. Up and down the paths she passed, singing happilyunder her breath, but seldom plucking a flower; for she loved best tosee them growing on their green stalks.
THE PRINCESS FLEURETTE]
She came at last to a little summer-house, up which climbedmorning-glories, blue and pink and white--fairy flowers of earlymorning, which few of her people ever saw, because they rose so late.For by the time those lazy folk were abroad, the best part of the daywas spent; and the little morning-glories, having lived it happily, wereready for their rest. They drowsed and nodded and curled up tight into along sleep, in which they missed nothing at all of the later day.
When Fleurette spied the morning-glories she clapped her little hands,and, running up to the arbor, danced about on her tiptoes, whispering,--
"Good-morning, little dears! Good-morning, my beautiful ones. How freshand sweet and fair you are!" And, plucking a single blossom, a cup ofthe frailest pink, she placed it in her yellow hair, her onlyornament. Then she danced toward the little arbor, for it was herfavorite early-morning bower. But when she came to the door, instead ofentering, she started back with a scream. For through the morning-gloryvines two bright eyes were peering at her.
"Peek-a-boo!" said a merry voice. And out stepped a lad with a smiling,handsome face. He was dressed all in green. By his side hung a sword,and over his shoulder he bore a little lute, such as minstrels use.
"Good-morning, merry maiden," he said, doffing his cap and bowing verylow. "You, too, love flowers in the early morning. We have good taste,we two, alone of all this place, it seems."
"You are not of th
is place. How came you here?" asked the Princess,stepping back and frowning somewhat. "Do you not know that this is thegarden of a Princess, who allows no one to visit it between dusk and thethird hour after sunrise?"
"Ah!" cried the youth, with a merry laugh. "That I learned yesterdaydown below there in the village. And a foolish law it is. If thePrincess knows no better than to forbid the sight of her garden when itis most beautiful, then the Princess deserves to be disobeyed. And forthat matter, pretty maiden, are not you, too, a trespasser at this earlyhour? Aha! Oho!" The lad laughed, teasingly, shaking his finger at her.
The Princess bit her lip to keep from laughing. But she said as sternlyas she could: "You are rude, Sir Greencoat. I am one of the best friendsthe Princess has. She allows me to come here at this hour, alone of allthe world."
"Ah, share the right with me, dear maiden, share it with me!" exclaimedthe Stranger. "Let me play with you here in the garden early in themorning. Do not tell her of my fault; but let me repeat it again, andyet again, while I remain in this land."
The Princess hesitated, then answered him with a question. "You are thenof another country? You are soon to go away?"
"Yes, I am of a far country. My name is Joyeuse, and I am a merryfellow,--a traveler, a minstrel, a swordsman, an herb-gatherer. I haveearned my bread in many ways. I was passing through this country whenthe fragrance of this wondrous garden met my flower-loving nose, guidingme hither. Ah, how beautiful it is! Because I wished to see it at itsbest in early morning I stole through the gates at sundown, and spentthe night in yonder little arbor. I have been wandering ever since amongthe flowers, until I heard your voice singing. Then I stole back here tohide, for I was too happy to risk being discovered and sent away."
"You are a bold, bad fellow, Joyeuse," said Fleurette, laughing; "and Ihave a mind to tell the Princess about you and your wanderings."
"Would she be so very angry?" asked the Stranger. "I will not pluck asingle bud. I love them all too dearly, just as you do, dear maiden, forI have watched you. Ay, I could almost tell which is your favoriteflower--"
"Nay, that you cannot do," said the Princess hastily. "No one knowsthat."
"Aha!" cried the lad. "You make a secret of it, even as does yourmistress, the Princess Fleurette. I have heard how she will choose forher Prince only him who finds the flower which holds her heart. I hadthought one time to find that flower, and become her Prince."
"You!" cried the Princess, starting with surprise.
"Ay, why not? I could fight for her, and defend her with my life, ifneed be. I could sing and play to make her merry. I could teach her manythings to make her wise. I am skilled in herbs and lotions, and I couldkeep her people in health and happiness. Moreover, I love flowers aswell as she,--better, since I love them at their best in this earlymorning: even as you love them, fair maiden. I should not make so poor aprince for this garden. But now that I have seen you, little flower, Ihave no longing to be a prince. I would not win the Princess if Imight. For you must be fairer than she--as you are fairer even than theflowers, your sisters. Ah, I have an idea! I believe that _you_ are thatvery flower, the fairest one, whereon the Princess has set her heart.Tell me, is it not so?"
"Indeed no!" cried the Princess, turning very pink at his flattery. "Howfoolishly you speak! But I must hasten back to the palace, or we shallbe discovered and some one will be punished."
"And shall I see you among the maidens of the Princess when I presentmyself before her?" asked Joyeuse eagerly.
"Oh, you must not do that!" exclaimed Fleurette. "You must not try tosee the Princess to-day. This is a bad time. Perhaps to-morrow--" Shehesitated.
"But you will come again to the garden?" he begged.
She shook her head. "No, not to-day, Joyeuse."
"Then to-morrow you will come? Promise that you will be here to-morrowmorning early, to play with me for a little while?" he persisted.
The Princess laughed a silvery little laugh. "Who knows whom you mayfind if you are in the garden again to-morrow morning early." Andwithout another word she slipped away before Joyeuse could tell whichway she went. For she knew every turning of the paths and all thewindings between the hedges, which were puzzling to strangers.
II
The next morning at the same hour Joyeuse was wandering through thepaths of the garden, seeking his flower-maiden. He looked for her firstnear the arbor of morning-glories, but Fleurette was not there. He hadto search far and wide before he found her at last in quite another partof the garden, among the lilies. She wore a white lily in her yellowlocks.
"Ah!" cried Joyeuse, when he spied her, "it is a lily to-day. Butyesterday I thought I guessed your favorite flower. Now I find that Iwas wrong. Surely, this is your choice. So fair, so pure,--a Princessherself could choose no better."
Fleurette smiled brightly at him, shaking her hair from side to side ina golden shower. "One cannot so easily read my thoughts as he maysuppose," she cried saucily.
"Dear maiden," said Joyeuse, coming nearer and taking her hand, "I haveno wonderful garden like this where I can invite you to dwell as itslittle princess. But come with me, and we will make a tiny one of ourvery own, where no one shall forbid us at any hour, and where we willplay at being Prince and Princess, as happy as two butterflies."
But Fleurette shook her head and said: "No, I can never leave the gardenand my Princess. She could not live without me. I shall dwell herealways and always, so long as the flowers and I are a-blooming."
UNTIL SHE CLAPPED HER HANDS FOR JOY]
"Then I, too, must live here always and always!" declared Joyeuse."Perhaps the Princess will take me for her minstrel, or her soldier, orher man of medicine,--anything that will keep me near you, so that wecan play together here in the garden. Would that please you, littleflower?"
Fleurette looked thoughtful. "I should be sorry to have you go," shesaid; "you love the flowers so dearly, it would be a pity."
"Yes, indeed I love them!" cried Joyeuse. "Let us then go to thePrincess and ask her to keep me in her service."
The Princess looked long at Joyeuse, and at last she said: "How do Iknow what manner of minstrel you are? I cannot take you to her withoutsome promise of your skill, for she is a Princess who cares only for thebest. Come, let us go into the wilder part of the garden, where no onecan hear us, and I will listen to your music."
So they went into a wild part of the garden, and sat down under a treebeside the little brook. And there he played and sang for her such sweetand beautiful music that she clapped her hands for joy. And when he hadfinished he said,--
"Well, dear maiden, do you think I am worthy to be your lady's minstrel?Have I the skill to make her happy?"
"Truly, Joyeuse, you have made _me_ very happy, and you are a Prince ofMinstrels," she answered. "Yet--I cannot tell. That is not enough. Buthark! I hear the chapel bell. I must hasten back to the palace.To-morrow I will come again and listen to another song. Meanwhile do nottry to see the Princess."
"I care not for the Princess, I," he called after her, "so long as I maysee you, little flower!" And for an answer her laughter came back to himover the flowers.
So that day went by; and early the next morning Joyeuse took his luteand sought the flower-maiden in the garden. This time he sought her longand long before he found her among the roses. There was a crimson rosein her hair, and one upon either cheek when she glanced up, hearing hisfootsteps on the grass. There was also a crimson spot upon her whitehand.
"See!" she cried, "a cruel thorn has pricked me. Let me test your skillin herbs, Sir Doctor."
With a sorry face, for it gave him pain to see her pain, Joyeuse ran tofind the leaf of a certain plant which he knew. Presently he returned,and, taking a bit of linen from his scrip, tenderly bound the leaf aboutthe poor wounded finger.
"Now will it be cured," he said. "This is a remedy which never fails."
"How wise you are," murmured Fleurette, "a very Prince of Doctors!"
"Say, may I not then hope to be the
doctor of the Princess?" he askedeagerly.
But Fleurette shook her head. "We must see how the finger is to-morrowmorning. If it is quite healed then, perhaps-- But hark! That is theGardener's whistle. It is late, and I must return to the palace, or hewill find us trespassing." And away she ran, before Joyeuse had time tosay another word.
Now when the morrow arrived, Joyeuse sought Fleurette in the garden,long and long. But at last he found her among the lavender. Her fingerindeed was healed, so that she smiled upon him, and she said,--
"Now you shall teach me to play the lute. The Princess, I know, wouldfain master the lute. But I must see first what sort of teacher you makebefore I take you to her."
So they sat down beside a marble fountain in the fairest part of thegarden; and there Joyeuse taught her how to pluck the lute and to makesweet music. He taught her so well, and they passed the time sopleasantly, that they forgot how the hours were flying.
"Joyeuse, you are the very Prince of Teachers!" said Fleurette.
At that moment a shadow fell upon the grass beside them, and lo! therestood the head Gardener, who had heard the sound of the music, and hadhurried to see who might be in the Princess's garden at this forbiddenhour. The Princess gave a little cry, and without a word slipped awaythrough an opening in the hedge that she knew, before the Gardener had achance to see her face.
"Huh!" grunted the Gardener. "She has escaped, whoever she is. But weshall soon know her name. You shall tell us that and other things, youminstrel fellow."
"That I will never tell you!" cried Joyeuse.
"Huh! We shall see about that, too," retorted the Gardener surlily. "Youshall not escape, Sirrah. I will take you to my lady the Princess, andyou will have a chance to explain how you came to be here playing thelute in her garden at a forbidden hour. Come along!" And he advanced toseize Joyeuse by the collar. He was a huge, burly fellow, almost a giantin size.
But Joyeuse laid his hand on his sword and said: "Keep back, Gardener,and do not attempt to lay hands on me! I promise to follow wherever youmay lead, but you shall not touch me to make me prisoner."
"Huh! A valiant minstrel!" sneered the Gardener. But he looked twice atthe Stranger's flashing eyes and at his strong right arm, and decided toaccept his promise. At once he led the way through the winding paths ofthe garden until they came to the palace gate. Now Joyeuse was shut intoa dark dungeon to wait the hour when the Princess was wont to holdcouncil, to listen to the prayers of her suitors and the wishes of herpeople.
Poor Joyeuse! "This is the end of my happy time," he said to himself."The Princess will now dismiss me, if she does no worse. She will haveno charity for a trespasser in her garden, of which she is so jealous. Imay not tell her how her fair maiden met me there and urged me toremain. I cannot tell; for that might bring trouble upon theflower-maiden, whom, alas, I may never see again!"
So he mused, wondering wistfully that she should have left him without aword. But there was no blame for her in his heart; he loved her so verydearly.
III
It was afternoon when the Gardener opened the cell of Joyeuse and badehim follow to the great hall of the palace where the Princess would hearhis crime and appoint his punishment.
With a heavy heart he followed down the white marble corridors on theheels of the giant Gardener, who muttered to himself as they went. Nowand then he would turn to look at Joyeuse and shake his head, as thoughforeseeing for him some dreadful punishment. At last they came to agreat hall, carpeted with green and ceiled with blue, while the wallswere of rosy pink. At the further end of the hall was a throne of gold;and upon it sat the Princess Fleurette. But Joyeuse dared not lift hiseyes to look at her.
He walked slowly down the hall after the Gardener, and they took theirstand near the throne, but behind the first rank of people. These werethe gayly dressed attendants upon a great Prince, who had come that dayto woo the Princess. Even at that moment the Herald was calling out hisname and titles--"Fortemain, Prince of Kalabria, Knight of the SilverFeather, Captain of a hundred spears!" The Prince Fortemain himselfbowed before the throne, while his attendants stood behind him, bearingmost wonderful gifts for the royal lady. There were caskets of jewels,pieces of rich silks and ermine fur, singing birds in cages, littlemonkeys, and other curious pets from far lands. There were never finerpresents than those which the Prince Fortemain brought to the PrincessFleurette.
A chorus of "Ohs!" went up from the maids of honor when they saw therichness of these gifts. But Joyeuse dared not even look up to see ifhis flower-maiden were among the white-robed band. He feared to betrayher to the fierce eyes of the Gardener, who was watching him closely.
The Prince Fortemain made his speech very prettily, offering thePrincess his heart and hand, and all his riches, as well as his kingdombeyond the seas, to which he hoped to carry her.
Then the Princess spoke in answer, very gently. And the sound of hervoice was like music in the hall.
"I have no wish to leave my own little kingdom of flowers," she said. "Iam happy and contented here. I have no wish to exchange hearts, savewith him who understands mine well. Let him find it where it is alreadybestowed, among my flowers. Choose my favorite flower, dear Prince, andI am yours."
At the sound of her voice Joyeuse started, and for the first time lookedup. There she sat upon the golden throne,--his own dear flower-maiden,she who had met him for three mornings in the garden! But now she woreno coarse gown of green. She was robed all in white, from her head toher little feet, which were shod with gold. A golden girdle she wore,and a golden band confined her golden hair. She glanced at Joyeuse asshe spoke the last words to the Prince, and Joyeuse was sure that hereyes twinkled. Instantly a bold thought came into his head, for he wasa bold fellow. He had been brought to her as a trespasser, ready forpunishment. He would remain as a suitor! This Princess was his littleplaymate; he could not, would not lose her. Had she not thrice calledhim a Prince? He would woo her, then, like any prince.
But now the Princess was speaking again, and this time she lookedstraight at him. "Whom have we here, good Gardener?" she asked, tryingto force a little frown.
"A trespasser, your Highness," answered the Gardener, in his gruffvoice, hustling Joyeuse to the foot of the throne, "a trespasser whom Ifound in your royal garden this morning at a disgustingly early hour,sitting with a fair maiden among the lavender, strumming on a lute. Isaw not the face of the girl, but I fancy she must be one of your ownmaids of honor. She also should be punished for listening to the musicof the wicked youth."
A little cry of horror arose from the gay group about the Princess, asthey looked at one another, wondering who the shocking early-riser couldbe. The Princess looked sharply at Joyeuse and said: "Tell us the nameof the maiden, Sirrah, and you shall be pardoned of your grievousfault."
Joyeuse looked up at the Princess and said gently: "Lady, I will tellher name to you, and to you alone, if you ask it; though I think thatyou guess it already. But first, I pray you, hear my suit. For I alsohave come hither as a suitor."
At these words the Princess started, and her cheek flushed. The Gardenerseized Joyeuse by the arm to drag him away. But Fleurette made a signfor him to stand back.
"Let the Stranger speak," she said, "and let him show, if he can, why,instead of being punished, he should be welcomed as one of our suitors."
Then Joyeuse knelt on the lowest step of the throne and laid at hismaiden's feet his sword and his lute and the scrip, or little pocket,which he wore at his side.
"Fair Princess," he said, "I come with scanty gifts and with noattendants--poor and alone. But all that I have I offer you; my swordfor your protection, my music for your joy, my little learning for youraid in sickness and in health. To atone for my boldness in forcing yourgarden gate I offer the service of all these for as long as you willhave them. And withal I offer my merry heart, as true and faithful asthat of any prince in the world; but more loving than any."
At this saying the Prince Fortemain pushed forward indignantly. "Y
oushall not listen to these idle words, O Princess!" he cried. "Thisfellow has no right to speak thus to you. He is no prince; he is but awandering minstrel and vagabond. Let him be flogged from the gates."
"Ay, let him be flogged away!" echoed the Gardener and others, and theyjostled closer as if to seize him. But Joyeuse still knelt at the feetof his flower-maiden, not at all afraid. The Princess rose, and,stamping her little foot, angrily commanded her people to be quiet.Then she spoke to Joyeuse, and the anger was gone from her voice.
"It is true you are no prince," she said. "What have you to say in replyto this Prince's word?"
"Am I no prince?" he answered, looking her straight in the eyes. "Thefairest Princess in the world has thrice named me Prince,--Prince ofMinstrels, Prince of Doctors, Prince of Teachers. Does not that make mea prince indeed?"
There was a silence in the hall at this bold answer. Then Fleurettebeckoned to her the Wise Man of the court, a wise man dressed all inblack, with a long white beard and hair like silver thistledown.
"O Wise Man, if a princess gave him these titles, is he indeed aprince?" she asked, and her voice was eager.
The Wise Man thought for a little time, then nodded gravely thrice. "Ay,my Princess, so it is written in the Book of True Chivalry. If he hasbeen so honored, he is in deed and in degree a prince."
"Nay!" cried the Prince Fortemain, "I say nay! She has not also namedhim the Prince of Courage. The Book of True Chivalry declares that he isno very prince who cannot do battle nobly for his lady's sake."
"That will I gladly do," said Joyeuse eagerly. "I can wield sword aswell as any prince alive."
The cheeks of the Princess glowed brightly. "Let him prove it, PrinceFortemain," she cried. "You shall punish him for his fault and for hisboast if his words prove false. But if he bear himself the better man heshall be called a worthy suitor like yourself, and shall have an equalchance with you."
Fortemain grumbled and looked sulky, for he felt ashamed to fight with awandering adventurer. But, since the Princess so commanded, there wasnothing for him but to obey. He drew his jeweled sword, and Joyeuselifted his plain one from where it lay on the step of the throne. Thecourtiers made a ring around the two, and the bout began.
One--two! One--two! The bright blades flashed, and the two lads turnedone about the other, seeking each the advantage. They were both skillfulfencers; but the watchers soon saw that Joyeuse was the better man.Dextrously he thrust and warily he parried. At last, with a sudden jumpand twist, he sent the weapon spinning from the hand of Fortemain. Awayacross the hall it flew; and, with red face and scowling brow, thePrince was forced to seek it where it fell.
"Well done! Well done!" cried the crowd, clapping their hands,forgetting the fault of Joyeuse in the wonder of his bravery. And "Welldone!" cried Fleurette. "I, a Princess, name you in addition to yourother titles the Prince of Courage. Arise, Prince Joyeuse. Your suit isanswered thus, as I answer every prince who does me the honor to seek myhand. If you be the very Prince for me you will know where to find myheart. Seek it where it is hidden in my garden. _My heart is with myfavorite flower._ Farewell, my Princes both. An hour before noontideto-morrow I will hold audience. Then he who is to be punished and hewho is to be rewarded shall learn their fate."
Saying thus she rose and, stepping lightly down from the throne, passedout of the hall. Immediately all the lords and ladies followed her,leaving the two suitors alone together.
Then the Prince Fortemain scowled at Joyeuse, and Joyeuse scowled backat him; and they went out of the hall by opposite doors. For they lovednot each other.
Joyeuse was moving slowly away when the Gardener approached and touchedhim on the shoulder. "How now, must I return to the dungeon as acriminal?" asked Joyeuse, flushing red.
"Nay. Matters have changed, my Lord Prince," answered the Gardenersulkily. "You seem no longer a trespasser, but a suitor. I do notunderstand how the seesaw has tilted so suddenly. But certainly you areto be lodged in no dungeon cell. My Lady has given orders that you beshown to a chamber as fine as that of the Prince Fortemain himself. Comewith me, if it please you."
Joyeuse was then taken to a little chamber, not high, but very pleasant,looking out upon the garden through a window latticed with vines.
"You are free to come and go, Master," said the Gardener, and left himwith a low bow.
Now by the time all these things were finished it was late in the day,and Joyeuse said to himself: "I will not search for the precious flowerto-night. I know that my dear flower-maiden prefers the early morninggarden, and among the freshly opened buds which I have seen her caressso kindly must be the one she loves the best. I will now seek sleep, forI am very weary. But early will I waken to-morrow morning, to seek theflower which is most dear to her."
So Joyeuse lay down on his bed, and was soon asleep, dreaming sweetly ofthe morrow. For he nothing doubted but that he should find the right andonly flower, since he loved the Princess so dearly that he must at lastread her secret.
IV
But the Prince Fortemain had no such peace of mind. He was wounded inhis princely pride because of having been defeated by the wanderingMinstrel. He could not sleep; but, resolving to be beforehand withJoyeuse, went out into the garden by night and sought high and low forthe flower-favorite of the Princess. For he said to himself: "Theprecious time has been almost spent by that luckless fight. And by thehour when I arise to-morrow it will be time to present myself before thePrincess." (He was a lazy, loitering Prince; which was one reason forhis sour temper, I suppose.) "I must, then, find the flower to-night,before that villain Minstrel does so."
Up and down the flowery paths went Fortemain, in and out among thesleeping blossoms. Most of them had their eyes shut tightly, and hecould not see how beautiful they were. At last he came upon a white,heavy-scented tuberose gleaming in the moonlight, and it seemed to himthe fairest of all. "Ha!" he said, "this is the sweetest blossom. Surelythis must be the favorite of the Princess Fleurette. I will pluck this,and to-morrow I will take it to her and claim her hand."
He gathered the tuberose and took it with him to his chamber. But eventhen the Prince Fortemain could not rest. The odor of the flower washeavy and sickening, and it gave him troublous dreams. All nightwretchedly he tossed and turned, and there was no refreshment in hissleep.
Joyeuse woke in the morning fresh and happy and full of eagerness. Hewoke very early--earlier even than usual, when he had been wont to jointhe flower-maiden in her garden. He began to think of her, and how shehad looked at different times when he had thus seen her. He rememberedher the day before among the lavender; and before that among the roses,with their dangerous thorns; once among the lilies, herself as pure andwhite. "Surely, surely," he said to himself, "one of these three is herfavorite flower." And he lay staring up at the ceiling, trying toremember which of all her posies she had seemed most to love. "Which oneof them has her heart? How curiously she said it: '_My heart is with myfavorite flower._' Surely, she meant something more by the words thanthe first thought which they bring. What did she mean?"
At this moment Joyeuse glanced toward the window, where the morningsunlight streamed in gloriously. The vines about the lattice trembled ina passing breeze. One of them, reaching out a slender tendril-finger,seemed to beckon him. He half rose in bed, smiling at the thought. Lo! alittle pink and white flower nodded at him over the window sill. It wasa morning-glory. How pretty, how fresh, how fairy-like it was, with thedew in its cup, and with its little green leaves so graceful,--likepointed hearts!
Suddenly Joyeuse sat straight up in bed. Those heart-shaped leaves! Theheart of the Princess Fleurette! Her favorite flower--was it not themorning-glory? Now he remembered how he had first seen her peering in atthe little arbor, herself a pink and white flower on a green stem, withthe blossom in her hair. He remembered how she had kissed the littlecups and called them her darlings. How could he ever have forgotten! Howdull he had been!
He sprang from the bed and ran eagerly to the window. He stretch
ed outhis hand to the blossom, not to pick it,--it was too early forthat,--but to caress it for his maiden's sake. Leaning out to do so, heheard a little laugh beneath his window, and, looking down, he saw thegreen flower-maiden with whom he had played in the mornings, standing atthe foot of the morning-glory vine, on which her hand rested lovingly.She was looking up, but when she met his eyes she turned and ran away,laughing softly as she disappeared from sight.
The time passed, all too slowly for Joyeuse. But at last came the hourfor the trial. The Herald blew his trumpet, "Tan-tara-tara!" and thecourtiers flocked to the hall to witness a ceremony the like of whichthey had seen so many times before that they were bored at the verythought. But because Joyeuse had first come as a prisoner and was now asuitor for their lady's hand, they were somewhat more interested thanusual in the day's decision.
Weary with a heavy night and with evil dreams, the Prince Fortemainstood on one side of the throne with his white tuberose in his hand. Butalas! The flower was as faded and weary looking as himself. Plucked soearly before the trial, all its fragrance and beauty were gone; andFortemain's heart sank as he looked at it, wondering if, after all, itcould be the Princess's favorite flower. But it was now too late toselect another. Indeed, he had but just risen when he heard the greatbell toll its warning to be ready for the trial. He showed a hastytoilet, and a mind as ill-prepared.
Joyeuse, on the other hand, was as bright and brisk as the sun whoserising he had seen. His suit of green velvet was fair to view, and hiseyes shone happily. In his hand he held a few inches of little vine,with leaf and tendril and at the side a single pale pink blossom. Thecourtiers eyed it curiously. Most of them had never before seen amorning-glory; and they tittered to think one should suppose so simple aflower could be the choice of a royal Princess.
Now the trumpet sounded again, and in came the Princess Fleurette,dressed in a beautiful robe of green silk, in which she looked more thanever like a wonderful flower. She mounted to her throne, looking downkindly upon her people, but merely glancing toward the two suitors whostood on either side of the dais.
"Now to the business of the day," she said. "I will listen to the choicewhich my two suitors have made. And you first, Prince Fortemain--howhave you selected? Have you found the flower of my heart? Have youguessed my secret choice, and are you therefore to be my very ownestPrince?"
Prince Fortemain knelt at the foot of the throne and held out thewithered tuberose somewhat ruefully.
"This, my Princess, is your favorite flower, I think. All over thegarden I sought, and I deemed it best of all. This queen of the night isless beautiful by day; but in the moonlight it was very fair and sweet.I think your heart lies in this flower. Give it to me to wear alway,dear Princess." He spoke beseechingly, for indeed he loved her verydearly. But the Princess shook her head.
"Not so, O Prince," she said. "This flower of the night is not mydearest one. It is sweet, but its breath is heavy and cloying; it takesaway sleep and fills the brain with stupor. Nay, you have not chosenwisely, as your own haggard looks show. You are not to be my Prince. Youknow not my heart. Farewell, Prince Fortemain."
Then Fortemain rose and turned away, as so many princes had done beforehim. He went out of the palace very sadly, and was nevermore seen inthat place.
The Princess turned next to Joyeuse. "And what has our Prince ofWanderers chosen?" she asked. "How well does Joyeuse know the heart ofFleurette?"
"I have chosen thus," said the lad, as he knelt at the feet of theflower-maiden and held out to her the bit of vine, with its frailblossom. "The sweet and simple blossom of early morning; the favorite ofthe early-riser. This has your heart, O my Princess--see, itsheart-shaped leaf! Have I not guessed aright?"
Then the Princess went down the steps of the throne and took the vinefrom the hand of Joyeuse and placed its flower in her hair. But her handholding the heart-shaped leaf she placed within that of Joyeuse, and shesaid: "Prince Joyeuse, you have chosen well, because you know my heart,and because you love what I love. You have guessed my secret. You foundmy heart among the morning-glories, and now it is yours forever. Takeit, Prince Joyeuse, and with it my hand. I have yet to punish you foryour fault in entering my garden at a forbidden hour. Your punishmentshall be this: you shall without reward for a year and a day be myminstrel, my soldier, my teacher, my doctor. But from thenceforthforever you shall be my very ownest Prince, sharer of my kingdom offlowers. This is the doom and the decree which I pronounce."
Then she kissed him very sweetly, and, leading him up to the throne,they sat down side by side upon the golden chairs.
"Sing to them, my Minstrel," said the Princess. And he sang as shecommanded, until the courtiers hugged one another for joy of hiswondrous music. He sang a song of Fleurette and her heart like a flower.But he sang not the story of the flower-maiden, for that was a secretbetween him and the Princess, while they lived happily ever after.
From that time forward, each morning Joyeuse and Fleurette stole downinto the garden while the others were yet asleep and enjoyed the flowersat their fairest. And no one, not even the surly Gardener, suspectedanything about it, which was the greatest fun of all to the merry pair.Nor did any one ever hear aught of the tale until this day, when I tellit to you.
But it was a morning-glory which telephoned it to me this morning, very,very early, while lazy folk were abed.