The captive clung to the wire gauze and did not move for a week.
She was a superb creature, this prisoner of mine, with her suit of brown velvet, crossed by undulating lines.

The neck was surrounded by white fur; there was a carmine spot at the extremity of the upper wings, and four great eyes in which were grouped, in concentric crescents, black, white, red, and yellow ochre: almost the colouring of the Great Peacock, but more vivid.

Three or four times in my life I had encountered this butterfly, so remarkable for its size and its costume.

The cocoon I had recently seen for the first time; the male I had never seen.

I only knew that, according to the books, it was half the size of the female, and less vividly coloured, with orange-yellow on the lower wings.
Would he appear, the elegant unknown, with waving plumes; the butterfly I had never yet seen, so rare does the Lesser Peacock seem to be in our country?
Would he, in some distant hedge, receive warning of the bride who waited on my study table?
I dared to hope it, and I was right.