Lady.—“Listen! I hear her step. Judge now for thyself.”
As the ivory door swung open, the beautiful princess entered. Perfect beauty had indeed been given her. There was in her countenance such a bloom, such a freshness, such a smile upon her lip, such a light in her eye, that, having once looked, one was hardly able to turn away. She wore no ornament, well knowing that gold could buy nothing so pretty, so bright, so radiant, as herself.
“And such beauty as this, or even greater, wouldst thou choose for thy youngest-born?” asked the fairy.
“O no, no, no!” said the lady, earnestly. “O fairy! yonder beauty has no heart, and none love her. She is not happy; she makes no one happy.”
“And did I not warn thee?” asked the fairy.
“Fairy, thou didst. The blame is mine,—mine only. I foolishly trusted that beauty alone would draw loving hearts around her. Oh! she is vain; she is silly; she is proud. Examine the book she holds. Inside its covers are little mirrors, that she may continually enjoy the sight of her beauty. All the artists in the kingdom are busy painting likenesses of her face, her form, her hands. And you will perceive that the very figures upon her dress are only so many miniatures of herself.”
“And her sister, the second princess,” inquired the fairy, “upon whom, at your request, I conferred great wisdom,—you surely find comfort in her?”
“Alas!” replied the lady, “although she can converse in all languages, and not even the wisest philosopher can puzzle her with questions, yet she cannot make herself beloved, for she knows not the secret of making even the poorest child happy. Though despising beauty, yet she is envious of her sister; and their want of affection saddens my whole life. But you will see, now, this wise princess. That is her step approaching. It will be very fortunate if we understand her, for seldom does she converse in our own language.”
Again the ivory door opened, to admit the second princess, who instantly began talking.
“Alski, mofo, se lup tak sba tab enryo dyo!” she exclaimed.