And when the young prince heard her gentle lay He felt a yearning pity for her fate. "Be not afraid, my dear," he said, "for I Will triumph over all thine enemies." Then Dang Sendari served them dainty food; And what was left, to her the princess gave. The prince too _siri_ from the betel-box And rare sweet perfumes used. When evening came, A soft couch for the prince was spread. And then The princess sought her room, and curtains drew Of rich Egyptian stuff. The prince had asked, "When comes the spirit-king?" And she had said, "At early dawn." The young prince could not sleep, But through the long night hours sang soft _pantoums_. When daylight came the prince arose. He heard A spirit coming to the palace. Then with fear Was seized the princess fair. "Behold," she cried, "He cometh." Then the young prince took his arms. "Fear not," he said; "have confidence in God. What he decrees must always come to pass. If I'm destroyed, then follow me in death. I only ask one thing of thee, my love. When I am dead, I pray thee weep for me, And let thy mantle be my winding-sheet. Now let thy glances follow as I go." I'll tell of Ifrid now--the spirit-king. He lurked beneath the palace. When he heard The princess talking with the prince his ire Arose like burning flame. His cry was like A thunder-burst. The very palace shook. "Depart from here," unto the prince he roared, "And feel my mighty power." Then sweet love-songs Exchanging with the princess went he forth. His mien was like Sang Samba's, and his face Was nobly firm, as if he went to meet A roaring tiger. At his side he wore A rare carbuncled sword, and arrows bore With points in deadly poison dipped. Ifrid, The creature with two heads, like spectre came With laughter horrid. He took up a stone And hurled it at the prince, who dodged its flight. Then full of wrath Ifrid upon him rushed. But swift the prince let fly an arrow sharp, And pierced his heart. One groan, and then he fell, And died beside the river. Then the prince Made haste to join the princess. When she saw The spirit Ifrid dead she much rejoiced And bowed before the prince. Great gladness shone In her fair face, because her woe had ceased, And she was happy that 'twas to the prince She owed her rescue. 'Twas as if she'd found A mountain great of jewels. Then she said: "Caliph a high divinity once was And called himself King Lila. God will bless Thee for thy deeds, O mighty prince."