PRINCE NARCISSUS AND THE PRINCESS POTENTILLA

Edition and rights: Original English text from Project Gutenberg ebook #7277, marked public domain in the USA. The literary text below is reproduced without AI rewriting.

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Once upon a time there lived a King and Queen who, though it is a very
long while since they died, were much the same in their tastes and
pursuits as people nowadays. The King, who was called Cloverleaf, liked
hunting better than anything else; but he nevertheless bestowed as much
care upon his kingdom as he felt equal to—that is to say, he never
made an end of folding and unfolding the State documents. As to the Queen,
she had once been very pretty, and she liked to believe that she was so
still, which is, of course, always made quite easy for queens. Her name
was Frivola, and her one occupation in life was the pursuit of amusement.
Balls, masquerades, and picnics followed one another in rapid succession,
as fast as she could arrange them, and you may imagine that under these
circumstances the kingdom was somewhat neglected. As a matter of fact, if
anyone had a fancy for a town, or a province, he helped himself to it; but
as long as the King had his horses and dogs, and the Queen her musicians
and her actors, they did not trouble themselves about the matter. King
Cloverleaf and Queen Frivola had but one child, and this Princess had from
her very babyhood been so beautiful, that by the time she was four years
old the Queen was desperately jealous of her, and so fearful that when she
was grown up she would be more admired than herself, that she resolved to
keep her hidden away out of sight. To this end she caused a little house
to be built not far beyond the Palace gardens, on the bank of a river.
This was surrounded by a high wall, and in it the charming Potentilla was
imprisoned. Her nurse, who was dumb, took care of her, and the necessaries
of life were conveyed to her through a little window in the wall, while
guards were always pacing to and fro outside, with orders to cut off the
head of anyone who tried to approach, which they would certainly have done
without thinking twice about it. The Queen told everyone, with much
pretended sorrow, that the Princess was so ugly, and so troublesome, and
altogether so impossible to love, that to keep her out of sight was the
only thing that could be done for her. And this tale she repeated so
often, that at last the whole court believed it. Things were in this
state, and the Princess was about fifteen years old, when Prince
Narcissus, attracted by the report of Queen Frivola’s gay doings,
presented himself at the court. He was not much older than the Princess,
and was as handsome a Prince as you would see in a day’s journey, and
really, for his age, not so very scatter-brained. His parents were a King
and Queen, whose story you will perhaps read some day. They died almost at
the same time, leaving their kingdom to the eldest of their children, and
commending their youngest son, Prince Narcissus, to the care of the Fairy
Melinette. In this they did very well for him, for the Fairy was as kind
as she was powerful, and she spared no pains in teaching the little Prince
everything it was good for him to know, and even imparted to him some of
her own Fairy lore. But as soon as he was grown up she sent him out to see
the world for himself, though all the time she was secretly keeping watch
over him, ready to help in any time of need. Before he started she gave
him a ring which would render him invisible when he put it on his finger.
These rings seem to be quite common; you must often have heard of them,
even if you have never seen one. It was in the course of the Prince’s
wanderings, in search of experience of men and things, that he came to the
court of Queen Frivola, where he was extremely well received. The Queen
was delighted with him, so were all her ladies; and the King was very
polite to him, though he did not quite see why the whole court was making
such a fuss over him.

Prince Narcissus enjoyed all that went on, and found the time pass very
pleasantly. Before long, of course, he heard the story about the Princess
Potentilla, and, as it had by that time been repeated many times, and had
been added to here and there, she was represented as such a monster of
ugliness that he was really quite curious to see her, and resolved to
avail himself of the magic power of his ring to accomplish his design. So
he made himself invisible, and passed the guard without their so much as
suspecting that anyone was near. Climbing the wall was rather a
difficulty, but when he at length found himself inside it he was charmed
with the peaceful beauty of the little domain it enclosed, and still more
delighted when he perceived a slender, lovely maiden wandering among the
flowers. It was not until he had sought vainly for the imaginary monster
that he realised that this was the Princess herself, and by that time he
was deeply in love with her, for indeed it would have been hard to find
anyone prettier than Potentilla, as she sat by the brook, weaving a
garland of blue forget-me-nots to crown her waving golden locks, or to
imagine anything more gentle than the way she tended all the birds and
beasts who inhabited her small kingdom, and who all loved and followed
her. Prince Narcissus watched her every movement, and hovered near her in
a dream of delight, not daring as yet to appear to her, so humble had he
suddenly become in her presence. And when evening came, and the nurse
fetched the Princess into her little house, he felt obliged to go back to
Frivola’s palace, for fear his absence should be noticed and someone
should discover his new treasure. But he forgot that to go back absent,
and dreamy, and indifferent, when he had before been gay and ardent about
everything, was the surest way of awakening suspicion; and when, in
response to the jesting questions which were put to him upon the subject,
he only blushed and returned evasive answers, all the ladies were certain
that he had lost his heart, and did their utmost to discover who was the
happy possessor of it. As to the Prince, he was becoming day by day more
attached to Potentilla, and his one thought was to attend her, always
invisible, and help her in everything she did, and provide her with
everything that could possibly amuse or please her. And the Princess, who
had learnt to find diversion in very small things in her quiet life, was
in a continual state of delight over the treasures which the Prince
constantly laid where she must find them. Then Narcissus implored his
faithful friend Melinette to send the Princess such dreams of him as
should make her recognise him as a friend when he actually appeared before
her eyes; and this device was so successful that the Princess quite
dreaded the cessation of these amusing dreams, in which a certain Prince
Narcissus was such a delightful lover and companion. After that he went a
step further and began to have long talks with the Princess—still,
however, keeping himself invisible, until she begged him so earnestly to
appear to her that he could no longer resist, and after making her promise
that, no matter what he was like, she would still love him, he drew the
ring from his finger, and the Princess saw with delight that he was as
handsome as he was agreeable. Now, indeed, they were perfectly happy, and
they passed the whole long summer day in Potentilla’s favourite place by
the brook, and when at last Prince Narcissus had to leave her it seemed to
them both that the hours had gone by with the most amazing swiftness. The
Princess stayed where she was, dreaming of her delightful Prince, and
nothing could have been further from her thoughts than any trouble or
misfortune, when suddenly, in a cloud of dust and shavings, by came the
enchanter Grumedan, and unluckily he chanced to catch sight of Potentilla.
Down he came straightway and alighted at her feet, and one look at her
charming blue eyes and smiling lips quite decided him that he must appear
to her at once, though he was rather annoyed to remember that he had on
only his second-best cloak. The Princess sprang to her feet with a cry of
terror at this sudden apparition, for really the Enchanter was no beauty.
To begin with, he was very big and clumsy, then he had but one eye, and
his teeth were long, and he stammered badly; nevertheless, he had an
excellent opinion of himself, and mistook the Princess’s cry of terror for
an exclamation of delighted surprise. After pausing a moment to give her
time to admire him, the Enchanter made her the most complimentary speech
he could invent, which, however, did not please her at all, though he was
extremely delighted with it himself. Poor Potentilla only shuddered and
cried:

‘Oh! where is my Narcissus?’

To which he replied with a self-satisfied chuckle: ‘You want a narcissus,
madam? Well, they are not rare; you shall have as many as you like.’

Whereupon he waved his wand, and the Princess found herself surrounded and
half buried in the fragrant flowers. She would certainly have betrayed
that this was not the kind of narcissus she wanted, but for the Fairy
Melinette, who had been anxiously watching the interview, and now thought
it quite time to interfere. Assuming the Prince’s voice, she whispered in
Potentilla’s ear:

‘We are menaced by a great danger, but my only fear is for you, my
Princess. Therefore I beg you to hide what you really feel, and we will
hope that some way out of the difficulty may present itself.’

The Princess was much agitated by this speech, and feared lest the
Enchanter should have overheard it; but he had been loudly calling her
attention to the flowers, and chuckling over his own smartness in getting
them for her; and it was rather a blow to him when she said very coldly
that they were not the sort she preferred, and she would be glad if he
would send them all away. This he did, but afterwards wished to kiss the
Princess’s hand as a reward for having been so obliging; but the Fairy
Melinette was not going to allow anything of that kind. She appeared
suddenly, in all her splendour, and cried:

‘Stay, Grumedan; this Princess is under my protection, and the smallest
impertinence will cost you a thousand years of captivity. If you can win
Potentilla’s heart by the ordinary methods I cannot oppose you, but I warn
you that I will not put up with any of your usual tricks.’

This declaration was not at all to the Enchanter’s taste; but he knew that
there was no help for it, and that he would have to behave well, and pay
the Princess all the delicate attentions he could think of; though they
were not at all the sort of thing he was used to. However, he decided that
to win such a beauty it was quite worth while; and Melinette, feeling that
she could now leave the Princess in safety, hurried off to tell Prince
Narcissus what was going forward. Of course, at the very mention of the
Enchanter as a rival he was furious, and I don’t know what foolish things
he would not have done if Melinette had not been there to calm him down.
She represented to him what a powerful enchanter Grumedan was, and how, if
he were provoked, he might avenge himself upon the Princess, since he was
the most unjust and churlish of all the enchanters, and had often before
had to be punished by the Fairy Queen for some of his ill-deeds. Once he
had been imprisoned in a tree, and was only released when it was blown
down by a furious wind; another time he was condemned to stay under a big
stone at the bottom of a river, until by some chance the stone should be
turned over; but nothing could ever really improve him. The Fairy finally
made Narcissus promise that he would remain invisible when he was with the
Princess, since she felt sure that this would make things easier for all
of them. Then began a struggle between Grumedan and the Prince, the latter
under the name of Melinette, as to which could best delight and divert the
Princess and win her approbation. Prince Narcissus first made friends with
all the birds in Potentilla’s little domain, and taught them to sing her
name and her praises, with all their sweetest trills and most touching
melodies, and all day long to tell her how dearly he loved her. Grumedan,
thereupon, declared that there was nothing new about that, since the birds
had sung since the world began, and all lovers had imagined that they sang
for them alone. Therefore he said he would himself write an opera that
should be absolutely a novelty and something worth hearing. When the time
came for the performance (which lasted five weary hours) the Princess
found to her dismay that the ‘opera’ consisted of this more than
indifferent verse, chanted with all their might by ten thousand frogs:

‘Admirable Potentilla, Do you think it kind or wise In this sudden way to
kill a Poor Enchanter with your eyes?’

Really, if Narcissus had not been there to whisper in her ear and divert
her attention, I don’t know what would have become of poor Potentilla, for
though the first repetition of this absurdity amused her faintly, she
nearly died of weariness before the time was over. Luckily Grumedan did
not perceive this, as he was too much occupied in whipping up the frogs,
many of whom perished miserably from fatigue, since he did not allow them
to rest for a moment. The Prince’s next idea for Potentilla’s amusement
was to cause a fleet of boats exactly like those of Cleopatra, of which
you have doubtless read in history, to come up the little river, and upon
the most gorgeously decorated of these reclined the great Queen herself,
who, as soon as she reached the place where Potentilla sat in rapt
attention, stepped majestically on shore and presented the Princess with
that celebrated pearl of which you have heard so much, saying:

‘You are more beautiful than I ever was. Let my example warn you to make a
better use of your beauty!’

And then the little fleet sailed on, until it was lost to view in the
windings of the river. Grumedan was also looking on at the spectacle, and
said very contemptuously:

‘I cannot say I think these marionettes amusing. What a to-do to make over
a single pearl! But if you like pearls, madam, why, I will soon gratify
you.’

So saying, he drew a whistle from his pocket, and no sooner had he blown
it than the Princess saw the water of the river bubble and grow muddy, and
in another instant up came hundreds of thousands of great oysters, who
climbed slowly and laboriously towards her and laid at her feet all the
pearls they contained.

‘Those are what I call pearls,’ cried Grumedan in high glee. And truly
there were enough of them to pave every path in Potentilla’s garden and
leave some to spare! The next day Prince Narcissus had prepared for the
Princess’s pleasure a charming arbour of leafy branches, with couches of
moss and grassy floor and garlands everywhere, with her name written in
different coloured blossoms. Here he caused a dainty little banquet to be
set forth, while hidden musicians played softly, and the silvery fountains
plashed down into their marble basins, and when presently the music
stopped a single nightingale broke the stillness with his delicious chant.

‘Ah!’ cried the Princess, recognizing the voice of one of her favourites,
‘Philomel, my sweet one, who taught you that new song?’

And he answered: ‘Love, my Princess.’

Meanwhile the Enchanter was very ill-pleased with the entertainment, which
he declared was dulness itself.

‘You don’t seem to have any idea in these parts beyond little squeaking
birds!’ said he. ‘And fancy giving a banquet without so much as an ounce
of plate!’

So the next day, when the Princess went out into her garden, there stood a
summer-house built of solid gold, decorated within and without with her
initials and the Enchanter’s combined. And in it was spread an enormous
repast, while the table so glittered with golden cups and plates, flagons
and dishes, candlesticks and a hundred other things beside, that it was
hardly possible to look steadily at it. The Enchanter ate like six ogres,
but the Princess could not touch a morsel. Presently Grumedan remarked
with a grin:

‘I have provided neither musicians nor singers; but as you seem fond of
music I will sing to you myself.’

Whereupon he began, with a voice like a screech-owl’s, to chant the words
of his ‘opera,’ only this time happily not at such a length, and without
the frog accompaniment. After this the Prince again asked the aid of his
friends the birds, and when they had assembled from all the country round
he tied about the neck of each one a tiny lamp of some brilliant colour,
and when darkness fell he made them go through a hundred pretty tricks
before the delighted Potentilla, who clapped her little hands with delight
when she saw her own name traced in points of light against the dark
trees, or when the whole flock of sparks grouped themselves into bouquets
of different colours, like living flowers. Grumedan leaning back in his
arm-chair, with one knee crossed over the other and his nose in the air,
looked on disdainfully.

‘Oh! if you like fireworks, Princess,’ said he; and the next night all the
will-o’-the-wisps in the country came and danced on the plain, which could
be seen from the Princess’s windows, and as she was looking out, and
rather enjoying the sight, up sprang a frightful volcano, pouring out
smoke and flames which terrified her greatly, to the intense amusement of
the Enchanter, who laughed like a pack of wolves quarrelling. After this,
as many of the will-o’-the-wisps as could get in crowded into Potentilla’s
garden, and by their light the tall yew-trees danced minuets until the
Princess was weary and begged to be excused from looking at anything more
that night. But, in spite of Potentilla’s efforts to behave politely to
the tiresome old Enchanter, whom she detested, he could not help seeing
that he failed to please her, and then he began to suspect very strongly
that she must love someone else, and that somebody besides Melinette was
responsible for all the festivities he had witnessed. So after much
consideration he devised a plan for finding out the truth. He went to the
Princess suddenly, and announced that he was most unwillingly forced to
leave her, and had come to bid her farewell. Potentilla could scarcely
hide her delight when she heard this, and his back was hardly turned
before she was entreating Prince Narcissus to make himself visible once
more. The poor Prince had been getting quite thin with anxiety and
annoyance, and was only too delighted to comply with her request. They
greeted one another rapturously, and were just sitting down to talk over
everything cosily, and enjoy the Enchanter’s discomfiture together, when
out he burst in a fury from behind a bush. With his huge club he aimed a
terrific blow at Narcissus, which must certainly have killed him but for
the adroitness of the Fairy Melinette, who arrived upon the scene just in
time to snatch him up and carry him off at lightning speed to her castle
in the air. Poor Potentilla, however, had not the comfort of knowing this,
for at the sight of the Enchanter threatening her beloved Prince she had
given one shriek and fallen back insensible. When she recovered her senses
she was more than ever convinced that he was dead, since even Melinette
was no longer near her, and no one was left to defend her from the odious
old Enchanter.

To make matters worse, he seemed to be in a very bad temper, and came
blustering and raging at the poor Princess.

‘I tell you what it is, madam,’ said he: ‘whether you love this
whipper-snapper Prince or not doesn’t matter in the least. You are going
to marry me, so you may as well make up your mind to it; and I am going
away this very minute to make all the arrangements. But in case you should
get into mischief in my absence, I think I had better put you to sleep.’

So saying, he waved his wand over her, and in spite of her utmost efforts
to keep awake she sank into a profound and dreamless slumber.

As he wished to make what he considered a suitable entry into the King’s
palace, he stepped outside the Princess’s little domain, and mounted upon
an immense chariot with great solid wheels, and shafts like the trunk of
an oak-tree, but all of solid gold. This was drawn with great difficulty
by forty-eight strong oxen; and the Enchanter reclined at his ease,
leaning upon his huge club, and holding carelessly upon his knee a tawny
African lion, as if it had been a little lapdog. It was about seven
o’clock in the morning when this extraordinary chariot reached the palace
gates; the King was already astir, and about to set off on a hunting
expedition; as for the Queen, she had only just gone off into her first
sleep, and it would have been a bold person indeed who ventured to wake
her.

The King was greatly annoyed at having to stay and see a visitor at such a
time, and pulled off his hunting boots again with many grimaces. Meantime
the Enchanter was stumping about in the hall, crying:

‘Where is this King? Let him be told that I must see him and his wife
also.’

The King, who was listening at the top of the staircase, thought this was
not very polite; however, he took counsel with his favourite huntsman,
and, following his advice, presently went down to see what was wanted of
him. He was struck with astonishment at the sight of the chariot, and was
gazing at it, when the Enchanter strode up to him, exclaiming:

‘Shake hands, Cloverleaf, old fellow! Don’t you know me?’

‘No, I can’t say I do,’ replied the King, somewhat embarrassed.

‘Why, I am Grumedan, the Enchanter,’ said he, ‘and I am come to make your
fortune. Let us come in and talk things over a bit.’

Thereupon he ordered the oxen to go about their business, and they bounded
off like stags, and were out of sight in a moment. Then, with one blow of
his club, he changed the massive chariot into a perfect mountain of gold
pieces.

‘Those are for your lackeys,’ said he to the King, ‘that they may drink my
health.’

Naturally a great scramble ensued, and at last the laughter and shouting
awoke the Queen, who rang for her maids to ask the reason of such an
unwonted hurry-burly. When they said that a visitor was asking for her,
and then proceeded each one to tell breathlessly a different tale of
wonder, in which she could only distinguish the words, ‘oxen,’ ‘gold,’
‘club,’ ‘giant,’ ‘lion,’ she thought they were all out of their minds.
Meanwhile the King was asking the Enchanter to what he was indebted for
the honour of this visit, and on his replying that he would not say until
the Queen was also present, messenger after messenger was dispatched to
her to beg her immediate attendance. But Frivola was in a very bad humour
at having been so unceremoniously awakened, and declared that she had a
pain in her little finger, and that nothing should induce her to come.

When the Enchanter heard this he insisted that she must come.

‘Take my club to her Majesty,’ said he, ‘and tell her that if she smells
the end of it she will find it wonderfully reviving.’

So four of the King’s strongest men-at-arms staggered off with it; and
after some persuasion the Queen consented to try this novel remedy. She
had hardly smelt it for an instant when she declared herself to be
perfectly restored; but whether that was due to the scent of the wood or
to the fact that as soon as she touched it out fell a perfect shower of
magnificent jewels, I leave you to decide. At any rate, she was now all
eagerness to see the mysterious stranger, and hastily throwing on her
royal mantle, popped her second-best diamond crown over her night-cap, put
a liberal dab of rouge upon each cheek, and holding up her largest fan
before her nose—for she was not used to appearing in broad daylight—she
went mincing into the great hall. The Enchanter waited until the King and
Queen had seated themselves upon their throne, and then, taking his place
between them, he began solemnly:

‘My name is Grumedan. I am an extremely well-connected Enchanter; my power
is immense. In spite of all this, the charms of your daughter Potentilla
have so fascinated me that I cannot live without her. She fancies that she
loves a certain contemptible puppy called Narcissus; but I have made very
short work with him. I really do not care whether you consent to my
marriage with your daughter or not, but I am bound to ask your consent, on
account of a certain meddling Fairy called Melinette, with whom I have
reason for wishing to keep on good terms.’

The King and Queen were somewhat embarrassed to know what answer to make
to this terrible suitor, but at last they asked for time to talk over the
matter: since, they said, their subjects might think that the heir to the
throne should not be married with as little consideration as a dairymaid.

‘Oh! take a day or two if you like,’ said the Enchanter; ‘but in the
meantime, I am going to send for your daughter. Perhaps you will be able
to induce her to be reasonable.’

So saying, he drew out his favourite whistle, and blew one ear-piercing
note—whereupon the great lion, who had been dozing in the sunny
courtyard, come bounding in on his soft, heavy feet. ‘Orion,’ said the
Enchanter, ‘go and fetch me the Princess, and bring her here at once. Be
gentle now!’

At these words Orion went off at a great pace, and was soon at the other
end of the King’s gardens. Scattering the guards right and left, he
cleared the wall at a bound, and seizing the sleeping Princess, he threw
her on to his back, where he kept her by holding her robe in his teeth.
Then he trotted gently back, and in less than five minutes stood in the
great hall before the astonished King and Queen.

The Enchanter held his club close to the Princess’s charming little nose,
whereupon she woke up and shrieked with terror at finding herself in a
strange place with the detested Grumedan. Frivola, who had stood by, stiff
with displeasure at the sight of the lovely Princess, now stepped forward,
and with much pretended concern proposed to carry off Potentilla to her
own apartments that she might enjoy the quiet she seemed to need. Really
her one idea was to let the Princess be seen by as few people as possible;
so, throwing a veil over her head, she led her away and locked her up
securely. All this time Prince Narcissus, gloomy and despairing, was kept
a prisoner by Melinette in her castle in the air, and in spite of all the
splendour by which he was surrounded, and all the pleasures which he might
have enjoyed, his one thought was to get back to Potentilla. The Fairy,
however, left him there, promising to do her very best for him, and
commanding all her swallows and butterflies to wait upon him and do his
bidding. One day, as he paced sadly to and fro, he thought he heard a
voice he knew calling to him, and sure enough there was the faithful
Philomel, Potentilla’s favourite, who told him all that had passed, and
how the sleeping Princess had been carried off by the Lion to the great
grief of all her four-footed and feathered subjects, and how, not knowing
what to do, he had wandered about until he heard the swallows telling one
another of the Prince who was in their airy castle and had come to see if
it could be Narcissus. The Prince was more distracted than ever, and tried
vainly to escape from the castle, by leaping from the roof into the
clouds; but every time they caught him, and rolling softly up, brought him
back to the place from which he started, so at last he gave up the attempt
and waited with desperate patience for the return of Melinette. Meanwhile
matters were advancing rapidly in the court of King Cloverleaf, for the
Queen quite made up her mind that such a beauty as Potentilla must be got
out of the way as quickly as possible. So she sent for the Enchanter
secretly, and after making him promise that he would never turn herself
and King Cloverleaf out of their kingdom, and that he would take
Potentilla far away, so that never again might she set eyes upon her, she
arranged the wedding for the next day but one.

You may imagine how Potentilla lamented her sad fate, and entreated to be
spared. All the comfort she could get out of Frivola was, that if she
preferred a cup of poison to a rich husband she would certainly provide
her with one.

When, then, the fatal day came the unhappy Potentilla was led into the
great hall between the King and Queen, the latter wild with envy at the
murmurs of admiration which rose on all sides at the loveliness of the
Princess. An instant later in came Grumedan by the opposite door. His hair
stood on end, and he wore a huge bag-purse and a cravat tied in a bow, his
mantle was made of a shower of silver coins with a lining of rose colour,
and his delight in his own appearance knew no bounds. That any Princess
could prefer a cup of poison to himself never for an instant occurred to
him. Nevertheless, that was what did happen, for when Queen Frivola in
jest held out the fatal cup to the Princess, she took it eagerly, crying:

‘Ah! beloved Narcissus, I come to thee!’ and was just raising it to her
lips when the window of the great hall burst open, and the Fairy Melinette
floated in upon a glowing sunset cloud, followed by the Prince himself:

All the court looked on in dazzled surprise, while Potentilla, catching
sight of her lover, dropped the cup and ran joyfully to meet him.

The Enchanter’s first thought was to defend himself when he saw Melinette
appear, but she slipped round his blind side, and catching him by the
eyelashes dragged him off to the ceiling of the hall, where she held him
kicking for a while just to give him a lesson, and then touching him with
her wand she imprisoned him for a thousand years in a crystal ball which
hung from the roof. ‘Let this teach you to mind what I tell you another
time,’ she remarked severely. Then turning to the King and Queen, she
begged them to proceed with the wedding, since she had provided a much
more suitable bridegroom. She also deprived them of their kingdom, for
they had really shown themselves unfit to manage it, and bestowed it upon
the Prince and Princess, who, though they were unwilling to take it, had
no choice but to obey the Fairy. However, they took care that the King and
Queen were always supplied with everything they could wish for.

Prince Narcissus and Princess Potentilla lived long and happily, beloved
by all their subjects. As for the Enchanter, I don’t believe he has been
let out yet.

La Princesse Pimprenella et Le Prince Romarin.