As soon as the orange-trees bloomed, Mirza started on her journey to the home of the prince, accompanied by the waiting-maid who had served her in her misfortune. On the way, the princess became very hungry, and asked for something to eat. Instead of giving her sweet cakes and luscious fruits, the maid gave her bread that was so salty and so bitter the princess could scarcely swallow it. Soon she was seized with a devouring thirst. "My good friend," she exclaimed to her maid, "what have you for me to drink?" "Nothing, my amiable mistress," said the maid. "What! not even a glass of water?" said the princess. "No, your majesty." The princess withstood the thirst as long as she could, and finally said: "I pray you, my good friend, go and find a stream, and bring me some water to quench my thirst—only a few drops." At this, the waiting-maid said: "Alas! we are in a very strange country. Here, water is the dearest of all beverages." "Well," said the princess, "take a handful of diamonds and offer them to the charitable person who will take pity on me and give me some water." The waiting-maid started out, but she did not go a hundred steps when she hid herself behind a bush. Very soon she returned with an air of distress, and with a sad voice she spoke thus: "Powerful princess, in this country, water is so dear that you will have to pay for a single goblet-full with one of your eyes." In her despair, the young princess pulled out an eye, and gave it to the waiting-maid. "Go," said the princess, "run quick, or I die." The cruel waiting-maid returned, bringing a little water, but scarcely did it quench her thirst for an instant. Not long afterward the princess began lamenting again: "I am still thirsty," said she, "and I feel that I am perishing." "Give me your remaining eye," said the servant, "and hereafter you shall be satisfied." The bewildered young princess consented to make the sacrifice. This time, she thought, she could drink to her heart's content. Night came and the sun sank behind the horizon, and the perfidious servant stripped her mistress of her fine clothes and gave them to her own daughter, Calamir. The poor blind girl was left by the roadside, and the waiting-maid and her daughter continued their journey toward the city where the prince resided. When they arrived all the bells in the churches rang out their joyous chimes. The people went out to meet her, and the prince tenderly embraced the one whom he thought was his betrothed. Never had such a scene been witnessed in that city. The wedding feast was brilliant and splendid. One thing, however, disturbed the prince. He had been told that a rose fell from the lips of the princess at each smile, and that under her feet diamonds sprung. He did not see any of these things. Puzzled at this, he inquired of his wife's mother: "Madam, how is it that roses do not fall from the lips of your child, and that precious stones do not appear when she walks?"