The prince went to dress for the occasion, for he was resolved to die
like a prince.
When the princess heard that a man had offered to die for her, she was
so transported that she jumped off the bed, feeble as she was, and
danced about the room for joy. She did not care who the man was; that
was nothing to her. The hole wanted stopping; and if only a man would
do, why, take one. In an hour or two more everything was ready. Her
maid dressed her in haste, and they carried her to the side of the
lake. When she saw it she shrieked, and covered her face with her
hands. They bore her across to the stone, where they had already placed
a little boat for her. The water was not deep enough to float it, but
they hoped it would be, before long. They laid her on cushions, placed
in the boat wines and fruits and other nice things, and stretched a
canopy over all.
In a few minutes the prince appeared. The princess recognized him at
once, but did not think it worth while to acknowledge him.
"Here I am," said the prince. "Put me in."
"They told me it was a shoeblack," said the princess.
"So I am," said the prince. "I blacked your little boots three times a
day, because they were all I could get of you. Put me in."
The courtiers did not resent his bluntness, except by saying to each
other that he was taking it out in impudence.
But how was he to be put in? The golden plate contained no instructions
on this point. The prince looked at the hole, and saw but one way. He
put both his legs into it, sitting on the stone, and, stooping forward,
covered the corner that remained open with his two hands. In this
uncomfortable position he resolved to abide his fate, and turning to
the people, said,--
"Now you can go."
The king had already gone home to dinner.
"Now you can go," repeated the princess after him, like a parrot.
The people obeyed her and went.
Presently a little wave flowed over the stone, and wetted one of the
prince's knees. But he did not mind it much. He began to sing, and the
song he sung was this:--
"As a world that has no well,
Darkly bright in forest dell;
As a world without the gleam
Of the downward-going stream;
As a world without the glance
Of the ocean's fair expanse;
As a world where never rain
Glittered on the sunny plain;--
Such, my heart, thy world would be,
If no love did flow in thee.
"As a world without the sound
Of the rivulets underground;
Or the bubbling of the spring
Out of darkness wandering;
Or the mighty rush and flowing
Of the river's downward going;
Or the music-showers that drop
On the outspread beech's top;
Or the ocean's mighty voice,
When his lifted waves rejoice;--
Such, my soul, thy world would be,
If no love did sing in thee.
"Lady, keep thy world's delight;
Keep the waters in thy sight.
Love hath made me strong to go,
For thy sake, to realms below,
Where the water's shine and hum
Through the darkness never come:
Let, I pray, one thought of me
Spring, a little well, in thee;
Lest thy loveless soul be found
Like a dry and thirsty ground."
"Sing again, prince. It makes it less tedious," said the princess.
But the prince was too much overcome to sing any more, and a long pause
followed.
"This is very kind of you, prince," said the princess at last, quite
coolly, as she lay in the boat with her eyes shut.
"I am sorry I can't return the compliment," thought the prince; "but
you are worth dying for, after all."
Again a wavelet, and another, and another flowed over the stone, and
wetted both the prince's knees; but he did not speak or move.
Two--three--four hours passed in this way, the princess apparently
asleep, and the prince very patient. But he was much disappointed in
his position, for he had none of the consolation he had hoped for.
At last he could bear it no longer.
"Princess!" said he.