Hello my sleepy friend,
I'm Joanne your host and I'm so glad you're here.
Tonight I'll be reading The Bee and the Orange Tree by Madame Donoy,
A gentle fairy tale about patience,
Kindness,
And quiet wisdom,
Shared at an easy,
Unhurried pace to help you settle and drift off.
This story will be shared in two parts,
And tonight you'll be listening to part one.
Now let's take a moment to settle in.
Get yourself comfortable,
However your body feels best right now.
There's nothing you need to fix,
Nothing you need to do.
Take a slow breath in through your nose,
And let it out gently through your mouth.
Allow your shoulders to soften.
Let your jaw unclench,
And if your thoughts are still a little busy,
That's ok.
Just let them sit quietly in the background.
With each breath,
Allow your body to sink a little more into rest.
And whenever you're ready,
Let's begin our story.
Once upon a time,
There lived a king and a queen who lacked but one thing to make them happy,
And that was to have children.
The queen was already old,
And had given up all hope of having any,
When she gave birth to the prettiest little girl that ever was seen.
Great was the joy in the royal household.
Everyone began to seek for the princess,
A name which should express their love for her.
And at last,
She was called Amy.
And the queen had these words,
Amy,
Daughter of the king of Happy Isle,
Engraved on a turquoise heart,
Which she hung round the princess's neck,
Thinking it would bring her luck,
As turquoises are supposed to do.
But the rule did not hold good,
For one day,
When they had taken her on the sea to give the nurse a holiday in the most beautiful summer weather,
Suddenly a terrific tempest arose so that it was impossible to land,
And as the vessel was a small one,
Only for use near the shore,
It was soon shattered to pieces.
The nurses and all the sailors perished,
The little princess asleep in her cradle floated on the water,
And at last,
She was cast up on the shore of a beautiful country where,
However,
Very few people lived there after the ogre Ravagio and his wife Tormentine came to make their home in the valley,
For they drove everyone away.
Ogres were terrible people.
Once they had grown accustomed to preying on humans,
They were said to care for little else,
And Tormentine was half fairy,
Always knew how to draw someone into their path.
She smelled the poor little princess a mile off,
And ran to the shore to find her before Ravagio should have reached her.
One was as greedy as the other,
And never were such hideous creatures seen,
Each with one squint eye in the middle of their foreheads,
Their mouths as big as ovens,
Their large flat noses,
Their long asses ears,
Their hair all standing on end,
And their humps in front and behind.
Yet when the ogre saw Amy in her beautiful cradle,
Swaddled in golden brocade,
And playing with her little hands,
Her cheeks like roses white and red,
Her tiny cherry mouth half open in a faint innocent smile,
Seemed almost to greet the dreadful creature who approached her.
For the first time in her life,
Tormentine felt a stirring of pity,
And she decided that she would care for the child rather than harm her.
She lifted the little girl gently into her arms,
Fastened the cradle upon her back,
And returned with her to the cavern.
See,
Ravagio,
She said to her husband?
Here is a child,
Rosy and strong,
But I swear you shall not lay a hand upon her.
She is a pretty little girl,
And I mean to raise her.
One day we shall marry her to our young ogre,
And their children will be a marvel to behold.
They will bring us comfort in our old age.
Very well,
Said Ravagio,
You are clever indeed.
Let me see the child.
She is wonderfully beautiful.
Only be gentle,
Said Tormentine,
Placing the little one into his great hands.
Do not fear,
He replied.
I would soon go without than harm her.
And so Ravagio,
Tormentine gathered around Amy,
Treating her with such unexpected tenderness that it was a marvel to behold.
But the poor child,
Who only saw these hideous creatures round her,
And not a sign of her nurse,
Began to screw up her little face and then to cry as loud as ever she could till Ravagio's cavern rang again.
Tormentine,
Fearing lest this should annoy him,
Took her and carried her into the woods,
The little ogres following after.
There were six of them,
Each one uglier than the other.
As I have already told you,
The ogre was a kind of fairy,
Her power being contained in an ivory wand which she held in her hand when she wished for anything.
So now she took the wand and said,
In the name of the royal fairy,
Trucio,
I command the most beautiful hind of our forests to come here this very minute.
Let it be meek and gentle,
And let it leave its fawn and come and suckle this little darling that fortune has sent me.
At that moment,
A hind appeared to the great delight of the little ogres.
Coming near,
It gave the princess of its milk,
After which Tormentine took her back to the cave.
The hind running after with leaps and bounds,
The little one looking and caressing it.
When she cried in her cradle,
There was the hind always ready to feed her,
And there the little ogres to rock her to sleep.
It was in this way the king's daughter was brought up,
While night and day her parents wept for her,
And while her father,
Thinking her at the bottom of the sea,
Was making up his mind to choose another heir.
When the king spoke of this matter to the queen,
She told him to do what seemed right,
For her dear Amy was dead,
And she could hope for no more children.
He had waited long enough,
She said,
And after the fifteen years that had passed since she had lost her,
It would be out of the question to expect ever to see her again.
The king,
Therefore,
Determined to ask his brother to choose from among his sons the one most worthy of reigning,
And to send him the prince at once.
The ambassadors,
Being given their letters of state,
And all the necessary instructions,
Set out on their way.
They had a long distance to go,
But their good ships and a favorable wind brought them speedily to the king's brother,
Who ruled over a great kingdom.
He received them very well,
And when they asked him to let them take one of his sons home with them to be the master's heir,
He wept for joy.
He told them that since his brother had left the choice to him,
He would send his second son,
The one he would have chosen to succeed himself,
Whose character so well befitted his high birth that every desirable quality was found in him in perfection.
Prince Ame,
For so he was called,
Was sent for,
And though the ambassadors had been led to expect great things of him,
When they saw him,
They were astonished.
He was eighteen years old,
And love,
The tender god himself,
Was less fair to look upon.
But his was a beauty which in no way took away from the noble martial bearing which wins respect and affection.
He was made aware of his royal uncle's strong desire to have him at his court,
And his father's intention to send him off forthwith.
So,
His equipage,
Being got ready,
He said farewell,
Went on board,
And set out upon the open sea.
Leave him there a while,
And may good fortune be his guide.
Let us go back to Ravagio,
And see what our young princess has been doing.
She grew in beauty every year,
And of her it may be truly said that the charms of the graces and the goddesses together were not as hers.
And when she was in that deep cavern with Ravagio,
Tormentine,
And the little ogres,
It seemed as if the sun and the stars and the skies had come down to visit it.
The cruelty she saw amongst these monsters only served to make her the more gentle.
And since she had become aware of their terrible appetite for human flesh,
Her whole mind was given to saving any poor creature that might fall into their hands.
Indeed,
In this was for their sakes,
She often ran the risk of drawing down all the ogre's rage upon herself.
And this would have happened one day or another,
If the young ogre had not loved her as the apple of his eye.
What will a strong affection not bring about?
For this little monster had grown quite gentle,
From looking on the fair princess,
And loving her.
But,
Alas,
What was her sorrow when she thought that she must marry this hideous lover?
Though she knew nothing of her birth,
She felt sure from the richness of her swaddling clothes,
The gold and chain,
And the turquoise,
That she came of a good stock,
And the feelings of her heart told her this still more plainly.
She did not know how to read or write,
Nor was she learned in languages.
She spoke the ogre's jargon,
And lived in absolute ignorance of everything,
Yet nevertheless,
Her principles were as good and her manners and temper as sweet as if she had lived all her life in the most refined court in the whole world.
She had made herself a dress out of a tiger skin,
Leaving her arms half bare.
She carried a quiver and arrows on her shoulder,
And a bow at her girdle.
Her fair hair was tied with a bit of seaweed,
And floated at will in the wind over her throat and down her back.
Her sandals were of sea-rushes,
Too.
Thus attired,
She haunted the woods like a second Diana,
And she would never have known her own beauty if the crystal streams had not served her as natural mirrors,
In which she gazed,
Yet grew no vainer,
No more disposed,
To look on her own face with favor.
The sun had done with her complexion as it does with wax whitened it,
Nor could the air of the sea make it tawny.
Her only food was the fruits of her hunt on her fishing,
And such expeditions were a pretext many a time for leaving the terrible cavern and the sight of more hideous things than could anywhere else be found.
Oh,
Heaven,
She said,
Shedding tears,
What have I done that this cruel ogre should be my fate?
Why dost thou not rather let me perish in the sea?
Why dost thou save a life which must pass so miserably?
Wilt thou have no pity on my sorrow?
So would she entreat the gods,
Praying to them for help.
When the weather was very stormy,
And she thought the sea might have cast some poor creatures on the shore,
Thither she went to care for them tenderly,
And to prevent their coming in the way of the ogre's cave.
One night,
It happened that a tremendous storm was raging.
As soon as it was light,
She rose and ran to the seashore.
There she saw a man holding on to a plank and struggling to gain the shore in spite of the force of the waves that ever drove him back.
The princess,
Wishing to help him,
Pointed out by signs the easiest landing place,
But he neither saw nor heard her.
Sometimes he was so near that there seemed only a step between him and the land,
When a wall of water covered him,
And he disappeared from sight.
At length,
He was driven on the sand,
And there he lay motionless.
Amy drew near,
And in spite of his pale face,
Which seemed to be token death,
She used every means she knew to bring him back to life.
She used always to carry with her certain herbs,
The scent of which was so powerful that it roused people from the longest wounds,
And these she pressed now into his hands,
And rubbed his lips and his temples with them.
When he opened his eyes,
He was so astonished at the beauty and at the dress of the princess that he hardly knew whether it was a dream or real.
It was he who spoke first.
She answered,
But they did not understand each other in the least,
And looked one at the other attentively,
Half in astonishment,
Half in pleasure.
The only men the princess had ever seen were poor fishers whom the ogres had caught,
And whom she had saved,
As I have already said.
What could she think then when she saw the comeliest and most magnificent man in the whole world,
For of course it was Prince Aimé,
Her cousin,
Whose fleet,
Shattered by a furious tempest,
Had struck upon the rocks.
Driven about helplessly by the winds,
All the crew had perished,
Or had reached some unknown shore.
The young prince was struck with astonishment that in such savage garments,
And in a country which seemed a wilderness,
So beautiful a damsel could be found,
And his recent impressions of the princes and ladies he had seen only served the more to persuade him that this lady he saw before him had not her equal anywhere.
In their mutual astonishment,
They still went on talking without understanding each other's words,
Their eyes and their gestures being the interpreters of their thoughts.
The princess,
After a few moments,
Suddenly called to mind the danger which the stranger was exposed to.
She became so very sad and disheartened that her feelings showed themselves on her face.
The prince,
Fearing she was ill,
Hastened to help her,
And would have taken hold of her hands,
But she repulsed him,
Making signs as well as she could for him to go away.
Then she set off running before him,
And coming back signed to him to do the same thing.
So he ran away and returned.
But when he had come back,
She got very angry,
And taking her arrows,
Aimed them at his heart as if to show him he would be killed.
He thought she meant to take his life,
And kneeling on the ground,
He awaited the stroke.
When she saw this,
She was at her wits' end what to do and how to express her meaning.
Looking at him tenderly,
She said,
Ah,
Must you then be the victim of the terrible ogres?
Must I with these eyes,
That now have the joy of looking on you,
See you torn to pieces and pitiless,
Devoured?
She wept,
And the prince in sad confusion understood not a word of what she was saying.
However,
One thing she made him understand,
That she did not wish him to follow her.
Taking him by the hand,
She led him into a very deep cave with an opening looking towards the sea.
She used often to go and lament her misfortunes there,
And would sleep there when the sun was too scorching for her to return to the ogre's cave.
And as she was very deft and skillful with her hands,
She had hung it round with a tissue of butterfly wings of different colors,
And on interlaced reeds forming a kind of couch she had spread a covering of seaweed.
She had put branches of flowers in great,
Deep shells,
Which served as vases,
In which she filled with water to keep the bouquets fresh.
There were all kinds of other pretty things that she had made.
Some with fish and shells,
Others with seaweed and reeds,
And about all these trifles,
In spite of their simplicity,
There was something so graceful that it was easy to see from them the good taste and the skill of the princess.
The prince was so astonished at all this elegance that he thought this cave must be her home.
He was delighted to be with her,
And though he was not fortunate enough to make her understand the admiration she filled him with,
He already felt that he should prefer to see her and to live near her to all the crowns to which his birth and the desires of his family called him.
She made him sit down,
And then to show that she wished him to stay there till she had brought him something to eat,
She undid the rush that fastened a part of her hair and tied one end of it to the prince's arm and the other to the little bed.
Then she left him.
He was dying to follow her,
But he was afraid of displeasing her,
And he gave himself up to the thoughts which the presence of the princess had driven away.
Where am I?
He said.
Into what country has fortune led me?
My ships are lost.
My men are drowned.
Everything fails me.
Instead of the crown which was offered to me,
I find a miserable cave where I am forced to seek shelter.
What will become of me here?
What sort of people shall I find here?
To judge by the damsel who came to my aid,
They are gods,
But the fear she had lest I should follow her,
That hard and barbarous language which sounds so harshly in her beautiful mouth,
Lead me to dread some adventure still more terrible than what has already happened.
Then he went over very carefully in his mind all the incomparable points of beauty in the young barbarian.
His heart took fire.
He longed impatiently for her return,
And her absence seemed the greatest evil of all.
Yet she came back with all the speed possible.
The prince had not been out of her mind a single instant,
And love was such a new experience to her that she did not fear it,
But thanked Heaven for having saved the prince from the perils of the sea,
And begged that he might be preserved from the dangers with which the ogres threatened him.
She was so laden,
And she had walked so quickly,
That when she got back,
She felt somewhat faint under the great tiger skin that served her for mantle.
She sat down,
And the prince was at her feet in great distress at her suffering,
For in truth,
He felt worse than she did.
After a little,
She recovered,
And showed him all the little dishes she had brought him,
Amongst which were four parrots and six squirrels cooked in the sun,
Strawberries,
Cherries,
Raspberries,
And other fruits.
The plates were of cedar and calomback wood,
The knife was of stone,
The napkins of large leaves of trees,
Very soft and pliable.
She had brought two shells,
One containing clear water,
And the other to drink out of.
The prince showed his gratitude by every sign of head and hands he could think of,
And she,
With a gentle smile,
Let him see that all he did was pleasing her.
But the hour of her parting having come,
She made him clearly understand that she was going away.
Both began to sigh,
And both to weep tenderly,
Yet each to hide their tears from the other.
The princess got up and made for the entrance,
But the prince uttered a loud cry and threw himself at her feet,
Begging her to remain.
She knew well enough what he meant,
But she put him aside,
Assuming a severe manner,
And let him see that he must early learn the habit of obedience to her.
In truth,
He passed a terrible night,
And the princess no less so,
For when she reached the cavern,
And found herself in the midst of the ogres and their little ones,
And looked at the hideous young ogre,
The monster who was to be her husband,
And thought of the charms of the stranger whom she had just left,
She was on the point of throwing herself into the sea.
Besides,
She was in terror lest Ravaggio or Tormentine should smell human flesh,
And should go straight to the cave and devour Prince Aimé.
All these terrors kept her awake the whole night.
At dawn,
She rose and took the road to the shore.
She ran,
She flew,
Laden with parrots,
Monkeys,
Fruits,
Milk,
And all the best things she could find.
The prince had not undressed.
He had undergone so much fatigue on the sea,
And he had slept so little during the night that towards day,
He fell into a light slumber.
What,
She said,
Waking him,
I have been thinking of you since I ever left you.
I have not even shut my eyes,
But you can sleep?
The prince looked at her,
And listened without understanding.
Then he said,
Kissing her hands,
What joy,
Clear child,
What joy to see you again.
It seems an age since you left the cave.
He spoke to her for long,
Without remembering that she could not know what he was saying.
When he remembered,
He sighed deeply and was silent.
Then she spoke,
Saying she was terribly anxious,
Lest Ravaggio and Tormentine should discover him,
That she dared not hope that he might remain safely in this cave,
And that if he went away,
She would die,
But that she would see him go,
Rather than see him devoured,
And so she begged him to make his escape.
Here her eyes filled with tears,
And she clasped her hands before her in a piteous fashion.
He could not understand what she meant,
And in desperation,
He threw himself at her feet.
At last,
She pointed out the road to him so many times,
That he understood some parts of her signs,
And he made it clear,
In his turn,
That he would die rather than leave her.
So keenly did she feel this proof of the Prince's friendship,
That to show him how sensible of it she was,
She took off the gold chain and turquoise heart which the Queen,
Her mother,
Had fastened round her neck,
And put it on the Prince's arm with the utmost grace.
Though overpowered by this favour,
He could not help seeing the inscription engraved on the turquoise.
Looking carefully at this,
He read,
Amy,
Daughter of the King of Happy Isle.
Never was anyone so astonished.
He knew that the name of the little princess that had been lost was Amy.
He did not doubt but that his heart had been hers,
But he was not yet sure if this beautiful savage were the princess,
Or if the sea had cast up the jewel on the sand.
He looked at Amy with keen glances,
And the more he looked at her,
The more he seemed to see a certain family likeness in her manner and in certain features,
But it was more especially the feelings of tenderness within his soul that assured him that this barbarian was indeed his cousin.
She looked on with astonishment at all he did.
While he raised his eyes to heaven as if to give thanks,
Gazing at her and weeping,
Taking her hands and kissing them fervently,
Then thanking her for all the gifts she had brought him,
And giving them back to her again as if to make her understand that a lock of her hair would be more precious to him than all the treasures of the world.
This he asked of her with a tender and imploring look,
But whether she would grant it,
And what strange destiny had brought them to this wild shore,
Is a tale that must wait for another night.
Sweet dreams,
My friend.
Sleep well.
