"What a wise man you are, Leuwenhock!" said Pepusch, laughing: "Well, think of my person what you will, but do not be absurd enough to deny that, in the moment of the thistle Zeherit's feeling the sweet breath of Gamaheh, he bloomed in glowing love and passion; and that, when he touched the temples of the sleeping princess, she too dreamt sweetly of love. Too late the Thistle perceived the Leech-Prince, whom he else had killed with his thorns in a moment; but yet, with the help of the root, Mandragora, he would have succeeded in recalling the princess to life, if the stupid genius, Thetel, had not interfered with his awkward remedies. It is true that, in his passion, the genius put his hand into the saltbox, which he is used to carry at his girdle when he travels, like Pantagruel, and flung a good handful at the Leech-Prince; but it is quite false that he killed him in so doing. All the salt fell into the marsh; not a single grain hit the prince, whom the thistle, Zeherit, slew with his thorns; and, having thus avenged the murder of Gamaheh, devoted himself to death. It is the genius only,--who interfered in matters not concerning him,--that is the cause of the princess lying so long in the sleep of flowers; the Thistle awoke much earlier; for the death of both was but the same sleep, from which they revived, although in other forms. You will have completed the measure of your gross blunders, if you suppose that the Princess Gamaheh was formed exactly as Dörtje Elverdink now is, and that it is you who restored her to life. It happened to you, my good Leuwenhock, as it did to the awkward servant in the remarkable story of the Three Pomegranates; he freed two maidens from the fruit, without having first assured himself of the means of keeping them in life, and in consequence saw them perish miserably before his eyes. Not you, but _he_, who has escaped from you, whose loss you so deeply feel and lament;--he it was who completed the work, which you began so awkwardly." "Ha!" cried the flea-tamer, quite beside himself--"ha! 'twas so I suspected!--But you, Pepusch, you, to whom I have shown so much kindness, you are my worst enemy: I see it well now. Instead of advising me, instead of assisting me in my misfortunes, you amuse me with all manner of nonsensical stories." "Nonsense yourself!" cried Pepusch, quite indignant: "you'll rue your folly too late, you dreaming charlatan! I go to seek Dörtje Elverdink--but that you may no longer mislead honest people----" He grasped at the screw which set all the microscopic machinery in motion---- "Take my life at the same time!" roared the flea-tamer; but at the instant all crashed together, and he fell senseless to the ground.--