The Princess was astounded, and expressed her delight at her great good fortune.
There was not a day that the pagodas did not come and tell her all the news of the courts where they had been in different parts of the world. People plotting for war, others seeking for peace; wives who were unfaithful, old widowers who married wives a thousand times more unsuitable than those they had lost; discovered treasures; favourites at court, and out of it, who had fallen from the coveted seat they occupied; jealous wives, to say nothing at all about husbands; women who flirted, and naughty children;—in fact they told her everything that was going on, to make her happy and to help to pass the time away.
Now one night it happened that the Princess could not sleep, and she lay awake, thinking. At last she said: 'What is going to happen to me? Shall I always be here? My life is passed more happily than I ever could wish; but, all the same, there is a feeling in my heart that there is something missing.'
'Ah! Princess,' said a voice, 'is it not your own fault? If you would only love me, you would recognise at once that it would be possible to remain in this palace for ever, alone with the one you loved, without ever wishing to leave it.'
'Which little pagoda is speaking to me now?' she asked. 'What dreadful counsel to give me, contrary to all I have been taught in my life!'
'It is not a pagoda who is talking to you; it is the unhappy King who loves you, madam.'
'A King who loves me!' replied the Princess. 'Has this King eyes, or does he need glasses? Has he not seen that I am the ugliest person in the world?'
'Yes, I have seen you, madam. All that you are, and all that you may have been, make not the least difference to me. I repeat, I love you.'
The Princess did not speak again, but she spent the rest of the night thinking over this adventure.
Every day on getting up she found new clothes and fresh jewels; it was too much homage, considering she was so ugly.