greatly missed not seeing him. On the
tenth night of her stay in her father's house she dreamed that she was
in the palace garden, where she saw the Beast lying on the grass nearly
dead, and that he upbraided her for her ingratitude. Beauty woke up with
a start, and burst into tears.

'I am indeed very wicked,' she said, 'to cause so much grief to a Beast
who has shown me nothing but kindness. Is it his fault that he is so
ugly, and has so few wits? He is good, and that makes up for all the
rest. Why did I not wish to marry him? I should have been a good deal
happier with him than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither
good looks nor brains in a husband that make a woman happy; it is beauty
of character, virtue, kindness. All these qualities the Beast has. I
admit I have no love for him, but he has my esteem, friendship, and
gratitude. At all events I must not make him miserable, or I shall
reproach myself all my life.'

With these words Beauty rose and placed her ring on the table.

Hardly had she returned to her bed than she was asleep, and when she
woke the next morning she saw with joy that she was in the Beast's
palace. She dressed in her very best on purpose to please him, and
nearly died of impatience all day, waiting for nine o'clock in the
evening. But the clock struck in vain: no Beast appeared. Beauty now
thought she must have caused his death, and rushed about the palace with
loud despairing cries. She looked everywhere, and at last, recalling her
dream, dashed into the garden by the canal, where she had seen him in
her sleep. There she found the poor Beast lying unconscious, and thought
he must be dead. She threw herself on his body, all her horror of his
looks forgotten, and, feeling his heart still beat, fetched water from
the canal and threw it on his face.

The Beast opened his eyes and said to Beauty:

'You forgot your promise. The grief I felt at having lost you made me
resolve to die of hunger; but I die content since I have the pleasure of
seeing you once more.'

'Dear Beast, you shall not die,' said Beauty; 'you shall live and become
my husband. Here and now I offer you my hand, and swear that I will
marry none but you. Alas, I fancied I felt only friendship for you, but
the sorrow I have experienced clearly proves to me that I cannot live
without you.'

Beauty had scarce uttered these words when the castle became ablaze with
lights before her eyes: fireworks, music--all proclaim