"No," said the Beast, "you must die!" The poor merchant fell upon his
knees and tried to think of something to say to soften the heart of
the cruel Beast; and at last he said, "Sir, I only stole this rose
because my youngest daughter asked me to bring her one. I did not
think, after all you have given me, that you would grudge me a
flower."
"Tell me about this daughter of yours," said the Beast suddenly. "Is
she a good girl?"
"The best and dearest in the world," said the old merchant. And then
he began to weep, to think that he must die and leave his Beauty alone
in the world, with no one to be kind to her.
"Oh!" he cried, "what will my poor children do without me?"
"You should have thought of that before you stole the rose," said the
Beast. "However, if one of your daughters loves you well enough
to suffer instead of you, she may. Go back and tell them what has
happened to you, but you must give me your promise that either you,
or one of your daughters, shall be at my palace door in three months'
time from to-day."
The wretched man promised.
"At any rate," he thought, "I shall have three months more of life."
Then the Beast said, "I will not let you go empty-handed.
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