It happened one day that, owing to some accident to the great flour mills which supplied the city, there was no bread to be had, and the king’s army had to do without. When the king heard of it, he sent for the cook, and told him that by the next morning he must have all the bread that the oven, heated seven times over, could bake. “But, your Majesty, it is not possible,” cried the poor man in despair. “The mills have only just begun working, and the flour will not be ground till evening, and how can I heat the oven seven times in one night?” “That is your affair,” answered the King, who, when he took anything into his head, would listen to nothing. “If you succeed in baking the bread you shall have my daughter to wife, but if you fail your head will pay for it.” Now Paperarello, who was passing through the hall where the king was giving his orders, heard these words, and said: “Your Majesty, have no fears; I will bake your bread.” “Very well,” answered the king; “but if you fail, you will pay for it with your head!” and signed that both should leave his presence. The cook was still trembling with the thought of what he had escaped, but to his surprise Paperarello did not seem disturbed at all, and when night came he went to sleep as usual. “Paperarello,” cried the other servants, when they saw him quietly taking off his clothes, “you cannot go to bed; you will need every moment of the night for your work. Remember, the king is not to be played with!” “I really must have some sleep first,” replied Paperarello, stretching himself and yawning; and he flung himself on his bed, and was fast asleep in a moment. In an hour’s time, the servants came and shook him by the shoulder. “Paperarello, are you mad?” said they. “Get up, or you will lose your head.” “Oh, do let me sleep a little more, answered he. And this was all he would say, though the servants returned to wake him many times in the night. At last the dawn broke, and the servants rushed to his room, crying: “Paperarello! Paperarello! get up, the king is coming. You have baked no bread, and of a surety he will have your head.” “Oh, don’t scream so,” replied Paperarello, jumping out of bed as he spoke; and taking the lock of hair in his hand, he went into the kitchen. And, behold! there stood the bread piled high—four, five, six ovens full, and the seventh still waiting to be taken out of the oven. The servants stood and stared in surprise, and the king said: “Well done, Paperarello, you have won my daughter.” And he thought to himself: “This fellow must really be a magician.” But when the princess heard what was in store for her she wept bitterly, and declared that never, never would she marry that dirty Paperarello! However, the king paid no heed to her tears and prayers, and before many days were over the wedding was celebrated with great splendour, though the bridegroom had not taken the trouble to wash himself, and was as dirty as before.