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Riquet with the Tuft
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tributed all the world over,—had left his father's kingdom to have the pleasure of seeing and talking with her. Overjoyed to find her thus alone, he addressed himself to her with all imaginable politeness and respect. Having observed, after he had paid her the ordinary compliments, that she was extremely melancholy, he said to her:—

"I cannot comprehend, madam, how a person so beautiful as you are can be so sorrowful as you seem to be; for though I can boast of having seen a great number of exquisitely charming ladies, I can say that I never beheld any one whose beauty approaches yours."

"You are pleased to say so," answered the Princess, and here she stopped.

"Beauty," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "is such a great advantage, that it ought to take place of all things besides; and since you possess this treasure, I can see nothing that can possibly very much afflict you."

"I had far rather," cried the Princess, "be as ugly as you are, and have sense, than have the beauty I possess, and be as stupid as I am."

"There is nothing, madam," returned he, "shows more that we have good sense than to believe we have none; and it is the nature of that excellent quality that the more people have of it, the more they believe they want it."

"I do not know that," said the Princess; "but