Do not hope therefore to soften me by flattery. You have
daughters, you say; well, I am willing to pardon you if one of your
daughters will come, of her own choice, to die in your place. Do not
argue with me--go! And swear that if your daughters refuse to die in
your place you will come back again in three months.' [Illustration: _The Beast_]

The good man had no intention of sacrificing one of his daughters to
this hideous monster, but he thought that at least he might have the
pleasure of kissing them once again. He therefore swore to return, and
the Beast told him he could go when he wished. 'I do not wish you to go
empty-handed,' he added; 'return to the room where you slept; you will
find there a large empty box. Fill it with what you will; I will have it
sent home for you.' With these words the Beast withdrew, leaving the merchant to reflect
that if he must indeed die, at all events he would have the consolation
of providing for his poor children. He went back to the room where he had slept. He found there a large
number of gold pieces, and with these he filled the box the Beast had
mentioned. Having closed the latter, he took his horse, which was still
in the stable, and set forth from the palace, as melancholy now as he
had been joyous when he entered it. The horse of its own accord took one of the forest roads, and in a few
hours the good man reached his own little house. His children crowded
round him, but at sight of them, instead of welcoming their caresses, he
burst into tears. In his hand was the bunch of roses which he had
brought for Beauty, and he gave it to her with these words:

'Take these roses, Beauty; it is dearly that your poor father will have
to pay for them.' Thereupon he told his family of the dire adventure which had befallen
him. On hearing the tale the two elder girls were in a great commotion,
and began to upbraid Beauty for not weeping as they did. 'See to what
her smugness has brought this young chit,' they said; 'surely she might
strive to find some way out of this trouble, as we do! But oh, dear me,
no; her ladyship is so determined to be different that she can speak of
her father's death without a tear!' 'It would be quite useless to weep,' said Beauty. 'Why should I lament
my father's death? He is not going to die. Since the monster agrees to
accept a daughter instead, I intend to offer myself to appease his fury. It will be a happiness to do so, for in dying I shall have the joy of
saving my father, and of proving to him my devotion.' 'No, sister,' said her three brothers; 'you shall not die; we will go in
quest of this monster, and will perish under his blows if we cannot kill
him.' 'Do not entertain any such hopes, my children,' said the merchant; 'the
power of this Beast is so great that I have not the slightest
expectation of escaping him. I am touched by the goodness of Beauty's
heart, but I will not expose her to death. I am old and have not much
longer to live; and I shall merely lose a few years that will be
regretted only on account of you, my dear children.' 'I can assure you, father,' said Beauty, 'that you will not go to this
palace without me. You cannot prevent me from following you. Although I
am young I am not so very deeply in love with life, and I would rather
be devoured by this monster than die of the grief which your loss would
cause me.' Words were useless. Beauty was quite determined to go to this
wonderful palace, and her sisters were not sorry, for they regarded her
good qualities with deep jealousy. The merchant was so taken up with the sorrow of losing his daughter that
he forgot all about the box which he had filled with gold. To his
astonishment, when he had shut the door of his room and was about to
retire for the night, there it was at the side of his bed! He decided
not to tell his children that he had become so rich, for his elder
daughters would have wanted to go back to town, and he had resolved to
die in the country. He did confide his secret to Beauty, however, and
the latter told him that during his absence they had entertained some
visitors, amongst whom were two admirers of her sisters. She begged her
father to let them marry; for she was of such a sweet nature that she
loved them, and forgave them with all her heart the evil they had done
her. When Beauty set off with her father the two heartless girls rubbed their
eyes with an onion, so as to seem tearful; but her brothers wept in
reality, as did also the merchant. Beauty alone did not cry, because she
did not want to add to their sorrow. The horse took the road to the palace, and by evening they espied it,
all lit up as before. An empty stable awaited the nag, and when the good
merchant and his daughter entered the great hall, they found there a
table magnificently laid for two people. The merchant had not the heart
to eat, but Beauty, forcing herself to appear calm, sat down and served
him. Since the Beast had provided such splendid fare, she thought to
herself, he must presumably be anxious to fatten her up before eating
her. When they had finished supper they heard a terrible noise. With tears
the merchant bade farewell to his daughter, for he knew it was the
Beast. Beauty herself could not help trembling at the awful apparition,
but she did her best to compose herself. The Beast asked her if she had
come of her own free will, and she timidly answered that such was the
case. 'You are indeed kind,' said the Beast, 'and I am much obliged to you. You, my good man, will depart to-morrow morning, and you must not think
of coming back again. Good-bye, Beauty!' 'Good-bye, Beast!' she answered. Thereupon the monster suddenly disappeared. 'Daughter,' said the merchant, embracing Beauty, 'I am nearly dead with
fright. Let me be the one to stay here!' 'No, father,' said Beauty, firmly, 'you must go to-morrow morning, and
leave me to the mercy of Heaven. Perhaps pity will be taken on me.' They retired to rest, thinking they would not sleep at all during the
night, but they were hardly in bed before their eyes were closed in
sleep. In her dreams there appeared to Beauty a lady, who said to her:

'Your virtuous character pleases me, Beauty. In thus undertaking to give
your life to save your father you have performed an act of goodness
which shall not go unrewarded.' When she woke up Beauty related this dream to her father. He was
somewhat consoled by it, but could not refrain from loudly giving vent
to his grief when the time came to tear himself away from his beloved
child. As soon as he had gone Beauty sat down in the great hall and began to
cry. But she had plenty of courage, and after imploring divine
protection she determined to grieve no more during the short time she
had yet to live. She was convinced that the Beast would devour her that night, but made
up her mind that in the interval she would walk about and have a look at
this beautiful castle, the splendour of which she could not but admire.