When the youth started, he passed through the Forbidden Wood, and
wandered there, plucking and tasting the fruit, smelling the flowers,
evil and sweet; and as he plucked and smelled, it chanced that a thorn
entered his breast, for it lay open. He took little heed, for he was
young, and the life strong in him; so the thorn made its way in, and
presently was buried in the flesh; and he forgot it, for it gave him no
hurt.
By and by he came out of that wood, and shook the dust of it from his
feet, and set his face toward the mountains, for a voice told him that
there he should find his life and his Love. And so it fell, for as he
fared on, his Love came to meet him, and he knew her, and she him. Then
each held out arms of longing, and embraced the other tenderly,
speaking fond words; but when the maiden pressed her arms about the man,
a pang shot through his breast, bitter as death; and he trembled, for he
knew it for the piercing of the thorn.
The man set his teeth, that he might make no outcry, and then he looked
at his Love: and see! she was snow-pale, and held her heart with both
hands, as if in pain.
"What is it?" cried the man. "What hurts my Love?" and she answered, "I
know not; a pang shot through my heart, bitter as death."
"Oh, Love, what like was the pang?" cried the man; and heard her words
before she spoke; for she said, "Like the piercing of a thorn!"