“But in what place?” said Gerald, “and how is she called?”
“She awaits in every place so long as youth remains—”
“Upon my word, now, Horvendile, but that is the truth, and a rather plaguing truth!”
“—However, this especial Princess is called, as it chances, Evangeline—”
“Oh, come!” said Gerald, “come now, but really, my dear fellow—!”
“—And at your first sight of her you will be enraptured. For this Princess Evangeline is so surpassingly lovely that she excels all the other women your gaze has ever beheld—”
“I know,” said Gerald. “Her face is the proper shape, it is appropriately colored everywhere, and it is surmounted with an adequate quantity of hair.”
“—Nor,” Horvendile went on, with rising enthusiasm, “is it possible to find any defect in her features—”
“No: for, doubtless, the colors of this beautiful young girl’s two eyes are nicely matched, and her nose stands just equidistant between them. Beneath this is her mouth; and she has also a pair of ears.”
“In fine,” said Horvendile, with his hands aflourish above his attendant pigs, “the Princess is young, she exhibits no absolute deformity anywhere, and your enamored glance will therefore perceive in her no fault, because of that magic which in the Marches of Antan the Two Truths exercise over all vigorous young persons.”