Beauty and the Beast
lay down my life for you, you would take the life of one who has done me so much kindness.’ But while she pleaded the figures wavered in her dream, still struggling together, and vanished, giving place to the same stately lady she had seen in her former vision. ‘Courage, Beauty!’ said this fresh phantom; ‘your happiness is not far off, if only you will go your own way and trust not to appearances.’
This dream left Beauty so uneasy that next day she opened one window after another to cure her restlessness; and, when this would not do, all the windows together; but still in vain. That night, when the Beast paid his usual visit, he detected almost at once that she had been weeping, and demanded the reason.
‘Ah, sir,’ said Beauty, ‘if only I might go home!’
‘You wish to go home?’ The Beast’s face turned pale—which, for such a face, was no easy matter. He staggered backwards with a deep sigh, or rather, a roar of grief. ‘Ah, Beauty, Beauty! Would you desert a poor Beast? What more can I do to make you happy? Or is it because you hate me, that you wish to be gone?’
116