déshabille, although she had taken great pains to make herself magnificent and attractive.
As soon as she appeared, from respect to her, he would have retired, but she desired him to remain, that he might assist her in walking, "I was awoke this morning, most agreeably, by the singing of the birds. The fine weather, and the pure air, invited me to hear them warbling nearer. How happy they are; alas! they know nought but pleasure: grief does not trouble them!" "It appears to me, Madam," replied Fortuné, "that they are not entirely exempt from pain and sorrow; they are always in danger of the murderous shot, or the deceitful snares of sportsmen, besides the birds of prey which war against these little innocent ones. When a hard winter comes, and freezes the ground, and covers it with snow, they die for want of hemp or millet-seed, and every year they have the trouble of seeking a fresh mistress."
"You think, then, Chevalier," said the Queen, smiling, "that it is a trouble? There are men who have a fresh one each month in the year; but you appear surprised at it," she continued, "as if your heart was not of the same stamp, and that you have not yet been given to change!" "I am not able, Madam, to know of what I should be guilty," said the Chevalier, "for I have never yet loved; but I dare believe, if I had an attachment, it would end but with my life." "You have never loved? "cried the Queen, looking so earnestly at him, that the poor Chevalier changed colour several times; "you have never been in love? Fortuné, can you assert this to a Queen, who reads in your face and your eyes the passion that occupies your heart? and who has heard the words which you sang to the new air, which is just now so popular." "It is true, Madam," replied the Chevalier, "that those lines are my own; but it is likewise true, that I made them without any particular design; my friends ask me every day to write drinking-songs for them, although I never drink anything but water; there are others who prefer love-songs: thus I sing of Love, and of Bacchus, without being a lover or a drinker."
The Queen listened to him with so much emotion that she could scarcely support herself; that which he had told her, rekindled the hope in her bosom that Floride would have deprived her of. "If I could think you sincere," said she, "I
