"Ah! yes," answered the beast, with a great sigh; "I hope I am
good-tempered, but still I am only a monster."

"There is many a monster who wears the form of a man; it is better of
the two to have the heart of a man and the form of a monster."

"I would thank you, Beauty, for this speech, but I am too senseless to
say anything that would please you," returned the beast, in a
melancholy voice; and altogether he seemed so gentle and so unhappy
that Beauty, who had the tenderest heart in the world, felt her fear
of him gradually vanish.

She ate her supper with a good appetite, and conversed in her own
sensible and charming way, till at last, when the beast rose to
depart, he terrified her more than ever by saying, abruptly, in his
gruff voice, "Beauty, will you marry me?"

Now Beauty, frightened as she was, would speak only the exact truth;
besides, her father had told her that the beast liked only to have the
truth spoken to him. So she answered, in a very firm tone, "No,
beast."

He did not go into a passion, or do anything but sigh deeply, and
depart.

When Beauty found herself alone she began to feel pity for the poor
beast. "Oh!" said she, "what a sad thing it is that he should be so
very frightful, since he is so good-tempered!"

Beauty lived three months in this palace very well pleased. The beast
came to see her every night, and talked with her while she supped; and
though what he said was not very clever, yet, as she saw in him every
day some new goodness, instead of dreading the time of his coming, she
soon began continually looking at her watch, to see if it were nine
o'clock; for that was the hour when he never failed to visit her. One
thing only vexed her, which was that every night before he went away
he always made it a rule to ask her if she would be his wife, and
seemed very much grieved at her steadfastly replying "No." At last,
one night, she said to him, "You wound me greatly, beast, by forcing
me to refuse you so often; I wish I could take such a liking to you as
to agree to marry you, but I must tell you plainly that I do not think
it will ever happen. I shall always be your friend, so try to let that
content you."

"I must," sighed the beast, "for I know well enough how frightful I
am; but I love you better than myself. Yet I think I am very lucky in
your being pleased to stay with me; now promise me, Beauty, that you
will never leave me."

Beauty would almost have agreed to this, so s