eserved the distinction, since nature
had made it in so extraordinary a way that its litter, instead of
being like that of other donkeys, was covered every morning with an
abundance of beautiful golden crowns, and golden louis of every kind,
which were collected daily.

Since the vicissitudes of life wait on Kings as much as on their
subjects, and good is always mingled with ill, it so befell that the
Queen was suddenly attacked by a fatal illness, and, in spite of
science, and the skill of the doctors, no remedy could be found. There
was great mourning throughout the land. The King who, notwithstanding
the famous proverb, that marriage is the tomb of love, was deeply
attached to his wife, was distressed beyond measure and made fervent
vows to all the temples in his kingdom, and offered to give his life
for that of his beloved consort; but he invoked the gods and the
Fairies in vain. The Queen, feeling her last hour approach, said to
her husband, who was dissolved in tears: "It is well that I should
speak to you of a certain matter before I die: if, perchance, you
should desire to marry again...." At these words the King broke into
piteous cries, took his wife's hands in his own, and assured her that
it was useless to speak to him of a second marriage.

"No, my dear spouse," he said at last, "speak to me rather of how I
may follow you."

"The State," continued the Queen with a finality which but increased
the laments of the King, "the State demands successors, and since I
have only given you a daughter, it will urge you to beget sons who
resemble you; but I ask you earnestly not to give way to the
persuasions of your people until you have found a Princess more
beautiful and more perfectly fashioned than I. I beg you to swear this
to me, and then I shall die content."

Perchance, the Queen, who did not lack self-esteem, exacted this oath
firmly believing that there was not her equal in the world, and so
felt assured that the King would never marry again. Be this as it may,
at length she died, and never did husband make so much lamentation;
the King wept and sobbed day and night, and the punctilious fulfilment
of the rites of widower-hood, even the smallest, was his sole
occupation.

But even great griefs do not last for ever. After a time the magnates
of the State assembled and came to the King, urging him to take
another wife. At first this request seemed hard to him and made him
shed fresh tears. He pleaded the