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Rh The king seemed in despair. They picked her up in pieces like a broken glass. Her cap was on one side, her shoes on the other. They carried her into the city, put her to bed, and sent for the best surgeons. Ill as she was, she never ceased storming. "Gracieuse has played me this trick," said she; "I am certain she only chose that fine but vicious horse in order to make me wish to ride it, and that it might kill me. If the king does not give me satisfaction for this injury I will return to my precious chateau and never see him again as long as I live!" The king was informed of the rage of Grognon. As his ruling passion was avarice, the mere idea of losing the thousand barrels of gold and diamonds, made him shudder, and was sufficient to drive him to anything. He ran to the filthy invalid, flung himself at her feet, and protested she had only to name the punishment Gracieuse deserved, and that he abandoned the princess to her resentment. She professed herself satisfied, and said she would send for her.

Accordingly the princess was told Grognon wanted her. She turned pale and trembled, being well assured it was not to caress her. She looked about everywhere for Percinet, but he did not appear, and sadly she proceeded to Grognon's apartment. Scarcely had she entered it when the doors were closed. Four women, who resembled as many furies, threw themselves on her by order of their mistress, and tore all her fine clothes from her back. When her shoulders were bare, these cruel demons could not endure their dazzling whiteness. They shut their eyes as though they had been looking for a long time on snow. "Come, come, courage!" cried the pitiless Grognon from out her bed. "Flay me that girl, and leave her not the least morsel of that white skin she thinks so beautiful." In any other emergency Gracieuse would have wished for the handsome Percinet: but being nearly naked she was too modest to desire his presence, and so prepared herself to suffer everything like a poor innocent lamb. The four furies were each armed with an alarming handful of birchen twigs, and they had besides large brooms out of which they could pull fresh ones, so that they beat her without mercy, and at every blow Grognon called out, "Harder! harder! you spare her!" There is no one who would not suppose, after that, but that the princess was flayed alive from head to foot. They would be mistaken, however: for