“Ah, how pretty it looks,” replied the Princess. “How do you do it? Give it to me, that I may see if I can do it as well.”
No sooner had she picked up the spindle, than she pricked her hand with it, and fell swooning.{*} King Cloche, when he heard that the fairies’ decree had been accomplished, ordered that the sleeping Princess should be placed in the Blue Chamber, on a bed of azure embroidered with silver. Shocked, and full of consternation, the courtiers made ready to weep, practised sighing, and assumed an expression of deep affliction. Intrigues were formed in every direction; it was reported that the King had discharged his Ministers. The blackest calumnies were hatched. It was said that the Duc de La Rochecoupée had concocted a draught to send the Princess to sleep, and that Monsieur de Boulingrin was his accomplice.
* Contes de Perrault, édition Aadré Lefevre, p. 86-108
The Duchess of Cicogne climbed the secret staircase to the chambers of her old friend, whom she found in his night-cap, smiling, for he was reading La Fiancée du roi de Garbe.
Cicogne told him the news, and how the Princess was lying on a blue bed in a state of lethargy.
The Secretary of State listened attentively.
“You do not believe, I hope, my dear friend, that the fairies have anything to do with it?” he said.
For he did not believe in fairies, although three of them, ancient and venerable, had overpowered him with their love and their staves, and had drenched him to the skin in a disgusting liquid, in order to prove their existence to him. The defect of the experimental method pursued by these ladies is that the experiment was addressed to the senses, whose testimony one can always challenge.
“The fairies have had everything to do with it!” cried the Duchess. “The Princess’s accident may have the most unfortunate results for you and for me. People will not fail to attribute it to the incapacity of the Ministers, and possibly to their malevolence. Can one tell how far calumny may reach? You are already accused of niggardliness. According to what is being said, you refused, on my advice, to pay for warders for the young and unfortunate Princess. Worse than that, there are rumours of black magic, of casting spells. The storm has got to be faced. Show yourself, or you are lost!”
“Calumny,” said Boulingrin, “is the curse of this world. It has killed the greatest of men. Whoever honestly serves his King must make up his mind to pay tribute to that crawling, flying horror.”