all the time she was eating her dinner without her seeing a single creature.  But at supper, when she was going to seat herself at table, she heard the noise of the beast, and could not help trembling with fear.  “Beauty,” said he, “will you give me leave to see you sup?” “That is as you please,” answered she, very much afraid.  “Not in the least,” said the beast; “you alone command in this place.  If you should not like my company, you need only to say so, and I will leave you that moment.  But tell me, Beauty, do you not think me very ugly?” “Why, yes,” said she, “for I cannot tell a story; but then I think you are very good.”  “You are right,” replied the beast; “and, besides being ugly, I am also very stupid:  I know very well enough that I am but a beast.”

“I should think you cannot be very stupid,” said Beauty, “if you yourself know this.”  “Pray do not let me hinder you from eating,” said he; “and be sure you do not want for any thing; for all you see is yours, and I shall be vastly grieved if you are not happy.”  “You are very kind,” said Beauty:  “I must needs own that I think very well of your good nature, and then I almost forget how ugly you are.”  “Yes, yes, I hope I am good-tempered,” said he, “but still I am a monster.”  “There are many men who are worse monsters than you are,” replied Beauty; “and I am better pleased with you in that form, though it is so ugly, than with those who carry wicked hearts under the form of a man.”  “If I had any sense,” said the beast, “I would thank you for what you have said; but I am too stupid to say any thing that would give you pleasure.”  Beauty ate her supper with a very good appetite, and almost lost all her dread of the monster; but she was ready to sink with fright, when he said to her, “Beauty, will you be my wife?” For a few minutes she was not able to speak a word, for she was afraid of putting him in a passion, by refusing.  At length she said, “No, beast.”  The beast made no reply, but sighed deeply, and went away.  When Beauty found herself alone, she began to feel pity for the poor beast.  “Dear!” 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 mark of his goodness, so instead of dreading the time of his coming, she was always looking at her watch, to see if it was almost nine o’clock; for that was the time when he never failed to visit her.  There was but one thing that vexed her; which was that every night, before the beast went away from her, he always made it a rule to ask her if she would be his wife, and seemed very much grieved at her saying no.  At last, one night, she said to him, “You vex 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,