A Peasant-woman became acquainted with a fairy in her neighbourhood.

She
entreated her to come and see her little girl, who had just been christened.
The fairy immediately took the infant in her arms, and said to the mother:
"Make your choiceshe shall be, if you wish, beautiful as the day, of a wit
more enchanting than her beauty, and the queen of a great kingdom, but
unfortunate: or, she shall be very ordinary, and a peasant-woman like
yourself, but contented in her condition." The peasant-woman chose
immediately for her child, beauty and wit, with a crown, at the hazard of
whatever misfortune might befall her. See growing up this little girl, whose
beauty already began to shame the loveliness of the most beautiful; her wit
was pliant, polished, and insinuating; she learned all they wished to teach
her, and her knowledge soon exceeded that of her teachers. On festivals, she
danced on the green with more grace than any of her companions; her voice
was more touching than any musical instrument, and she composed, herself,
the ballads she sung. At first, she knew not that she was handsome; but, in
playing with her young friends upon the brink of a clear fountain, she saw
herself, and remarking that she was different from the others, she admired
herself for the first time. All the country, that ran in crowds to see her, made
her still better acquainted with her charms. Her mother, who had depended
on the predictions of the fairy, already regarded her as a queen, and spoiled
her by her indulgence. The young girl would neither spin, sew, nor tend the
sheep. She would amuse herself by gathering flowers, in dressing her hair, in
singing and dancing in the shade of the woods. The king of this country was
very powerful, and he had but one son, named Rosimond, whom he desired
should be married. But he never could bring himself to listen to the proposal
of any princess from the neighbouring states, because a fairy had assured
him, that he should find a peasant-girl, far more beautiful, and perfect, than
any princess whatever. He re solved to assemble all the young village-girls of
his kingdom, below the age of eighteen, and select her who appeared most
worthy of his choice. He excluded, at first, an immense number of girls, who
possessed but a moderate share of beauty, and placed aside thirty, who
infinitely surpassed the rest. Florise (the name of the younggirl) had not the
mortification of being confounded with the multitude. These thirty girls were
arranged in the centre of a large hall, in a species of amphitheatre, where the
king and his son could behold them at once. Florise instantly appeared, in the
midst of all others, as a beautiful anemone among marigolds, or an orangetree, in blossom, amidst a wild thicket. The king cried out that she deserved
the crown. Rosimond believed himself blessed, in possessing Florise; they
stripped off her country-dress, and gave her one embroidered with gold. In an
instant, she saw herself covered with diamonds and pearls; a great number of
ladies were employed in waiting upon her; every one thought of guessing
what would please her, that they might give it to her before she should be
troubled to ask for it. She was lodged in a magnificent apartment of the

palace, which had, in place of tapestry, large pieces of looking-glass, of the

height of the room, surrounding the walls, that she might have the pleasure
of seeing her beauty multiplied on all sides, and that the prince might admire
her, in whatever direction he turned his eyes. Rosimond had given up the
chase, play, and all his manly exercises, to be without interruption with her;
and as the king, his father, had died a short time after his marriage, it was
the prudent Florise, now become queen, whose advice decided the councils
of the state. The queen, mother of the new king, named Gronipote, was
jealous of her daughter-in-law. This woman was artful, malignant, and cruel.
Old age had added additional deformity to her natural ugliness, and she
looked like a fury. The beauty of Florise made her appear still more hideous,
and irritated her every moment. She could not endure the disagreeable
contrast; she feared also her talents, and she surrendered herself up to all
the fury of envy.
"You have no spirit," said she frequently to her son, "to have consented to
marry this little country-girl; and you have even the baseness to make her
your idol. She is proud, as if she were born in the place where she now is.
When the king, your father, wished to marry, he preferred me to every other,
because I was the daughter of a king, equal to himself. So you ought to act;
send back this little shepherdess to her own village, and turn your thoughts
upon some young princess, suitable to your rank."
Rosimond stood out against his mother; but Gronipote one day stole a letter
which Florise had written to the king, and gave it to a young man about court,
whom she compelled to carry this note to the king, as if Florise had testified
for him that love which she ought to have expressed for the king alone.
Rosimond, blinded by jealousy, and by the malicious advice which his mother
gave him, caused Florise to be shut up for life in a high tower, built upon the
point of a rock, which jutted into the sea. There she wept night and day, not
knowing through what injustice the king (whom she had so dearly loved)
treated her so unworthily. He had permitted her only to see one old woman,
entirely in the interest of Gronipote, who insulted her every moment during
her imprisonment. Then Florise thought, with regret, of her village, her
cottage, and her rustic amusements. One day, while she was overwhelmed
with grief, and lamenting the weakness of her mother, who had chosen, in
preference, that she should be handsome, and an unfortunate queen, rather
than acountry-girl, ugly, but contented in her station. The old woman, who
had treated her so badly, announced to her that the king had sent an
executioner to behead her, and that she had but a short time to prepare for
death. Florise replied that she was ready. Indeed, the executioner, sent by the
orders of the king, through the influence of Gronipote, had already raised his
cutlass to sever her head, when there appeared a woman, who said that she
had come to speak two words in secret to Florise before her death. The old

woman permitted her to speak with her, because she appeared to her to be
one of the ladies from the palace. But it was in reality the fairy, who had
predicted the misfortunes of Florise at her birth, and who had assumed the
figure of a lady from the queen-mother. She spoke to Florise aside, retiring a
little out of sight.
"Are you willing," said she to her, "to renounce the beauty which has been so
deadly to you? Are you willing to lose the title of queen, resume your former
dress, and return to your village?" Florise delightedly accepted her offer. The
fairy applied to her face an enchanted mask: immediately the features of her
face became coarse, and lost their beautiful proportions; she became as ugly
as she had been before beautiful and pleasing. In this state, she could no
longer be recognised, and she passed, without difficulty, through the midst of
those who had assembled to witness her execution; she followed the fairy,
and returned with her to her own country. They in vain searched for
Florise;they could not find her in any part of the tower. The news was carried
to the king and Gronipote, who caused another search to be made through
the kingdom; but all was ineffectual: the fairy had returned her to her mother,
who would not have known her, after so great a transformation, if she had
not been informed of it. Florise was contented to live ugly, poor, and
unknown in her village, where she tended her sheep. She heard every day
her adventures related, and her misfortunes deplored; ballads were made,
which caused every one to weep; she took pleasure in singing them among
her companions, and she wept like the rest. But she found herself happy,
while tending her flock, and would never disclose to any body the secret of
her being Florise.