Part 3

“Alas!” she said, “my broken faith; alas! that ever I should have thus forsook my friend; and if he die, now must I grieve to my life’s end.” Then she hastily laid her magic ring under the pillow, which was all wetted with her weeping. And soon for heaviness she fell on sleep. In the springing of the day Beauty opened her eyes, and, behold, she lay in the green-hung chamber wherein she had so greatly longed to be.

The golden autumn day rose fair and still on the silent manor and the garden of the Beast. All the long hours until evensong, must the maiden wait; then he would show himself, and she would comfort him, and tell him of sweet coming days, wherein she never more would leave him.

The golden hours sped slowly. Slowly and softly fell the rose-leaves upon the grass. The song-birds that day hid in hushed silence, anear the garden bowers where Beauty sat alone, weaving flowers and fruits and birds unknown to earth, upon the silken loom. And evermore the longed-for evening hour drew on. Anon she heard the clock smite, and she gat her with haste into the house.

In the hall the table was covered, and Beauty, arrayed in a broidered gown of red samite, sat in her place and waited. No fresh garlands behanged the walls, but only brown and withered leaves. And she wist not anything of the Beast; and she had no mind to eat and drink, for a cold dread overcame her that some misadventure had befallen him, whiles she listened for the least sound whereby she might know that he approached. But when he came not within a while, she must needs go seek him throughout the manor. But the chambers were empty, and the garden void, and whenas she called none answer came. Then she bethought her of the little fountain in the wood, and she ran thither. There, indeed, under a pine-tree upon the grass, lay that hapless Beast in a deadly swoon. And Beauty sank down upon her knees beside him, and raised his head in her arms; and it dread her sore but that he were in great peril of death. And then she grieved, and gave herself reproach and upbraiding. And, “Oh, dear Beast! what aileth thee?” she cried. “Alas! that ever he saw me to have such sorrow.”

But when she had fetched a little water, and had put it in his mouth, the Beast came to himself. So he opened his eyes and looked upon the girl full sadly. And therewithal he said, in a full weak voice, “Alas! fair maid; why hast thou so long delayed? for now I fear me I shall die: for I feel well, the deep draughts of death draw to my heart.”

Then did she make great moan, and besought the Beast of his love for her not to die and forsake her. But he seemed as though he heard not; and ever his breath came slower, and more faint. And then Beauty fell to weeping as though her heart would break; and remembering her of all his gentleness and kindness, and that now he was like to die through her unkindness, in her anguish she called the Beast her love, her only love.

[Illustration]

With that word there befell a strange adventure. But one moment agone, the maid had holden in her arms the Beast’s grim, hairy head; and in her grief she knew not how it slid away from her embrace. For when she looked, there was nought but crushed leaves and grass where the dying Beast had lain. Also a dreamlike brightness seemed to mingle silverly about the dusk of evening, as though the moon had risen, or that starlight trembled upon the gloom. Then all bewildered and amazed, she deemed that some young prince, clad in rich clothes, with jewelled mantle and scarlet plume, stood anear. So, forgetting fear in her trouble, she prayed him without more ado to tell her, “Had he seen the Beast? For,” she said, “mine own dear Beast lay here but now, and like to die, and he is gone, and I know not where he is become.”

[Illustration: AH DEAR BEAST, SHE SAID: ALAS THAT MY UNKINDNESS SHOULD THUS SLAY THEE. LEIGHTON, BROS.]

But the strange prince held his peace, and none answer gave he to her most piteous cry; only he kneeled down beside the maid, and then full gently did he kiss her golden hair, that spread all wide adown her neck, and then he kissed her red lips; and whenas, wondering and angered, she drew from him, and would have started away, he took her in his arms and said, “Oh lovely one, do you not then know me? Look at me, and see; for indeed I am that Beast, and he was me!”

But Beauty trembled, nor durst she look; for well she knew there had been some enchantment; and, sithence, it was a man and no Beast that spake, yet in his voice, and in the words he said, she seemed to hearken to the friend that she had lost erewhile. Then quick tears, but not of sorrow, filled her eyes, for an unwonted thing had happened; yet was it to her but as the fulfilment of some dear dream in old, forgotten, long-past days.

[Illustration]

And so, alone together there, amid the brown dusk of coming night, for a little space, were they silent for very joy. And then did Beauty, in all maiden trust, give him, that had been the Beast, her true word, and promised that she would be his wedded wife. Then he lifted her to her feet, and led her home along those same sweet grassy paths. And as they went, he told her all the tale of the cruel spell which had bound him since these many woful years, in that unhappy shape, and how nought but a dear maiden’s love might set him free, and of how great had been his hopeless love for her.

Silently the white moths floated by. The gentle winds of summer sighed odorously, and stirred the broad hazel-leaves on either hand the close green alley, as they went; while loose-petalled roses bloomed and fell in aisles of overarching sweetness.

* * * * *

Therewith a great clearness shone around them; and as they came nigh the house, burning lights shone from the windows; and there was music, and the noise of merry voices mingling in songs and laughter. Strange sounds, long unheard in that still house! Then from the door the Beast’s mother, a sweet and noble lady, came forth to meet them; and great joy made she, as she beheld her son, coming in his own likeness, as he was or that strange magic was laid on him. And then she embraced Beauty, and with her heart she made her right welcome.

Now the lady was a queen. She was the same that came afore to Beauty in a dream to comfort her.

* * * * *

[Illustration]

Here then endeth the tale; sith it were over-long to tell of the revels and the dances, and of how the golden Hall was engarlanded with roses, and of the great feast held there, on the day that Beauty and the Beast were wedded together; nor need we tell, of how the merchant-master was called from his lonely tower, and came thither on his fair child’s marriage morn; whenas his sorrowful days had end for evermore; and of how his three brave sons became most noble knights, and greatly renowned for the destroying of many pagan knights and giants, and of divers fell beasts and griffins of that time.

[Illustration: LOVE IS THE MAGIC, THAT MAKES ALL THINGS FAIR. LEIGHTON, BROS.]

But Beauty’s sisters, came never near that happy house. For wit you well, the winter rasure of such-like cankers, may not approach the green summer, wherein the flower of true love flourisheth.

THE END.

Transcriber's Notes:

Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.

Perceived typographical errors have been changed.