Now the Princess became impatient, and so one day she began after this
fashion:
"My handkerchief has fallen down; could your Highness pick it up for
me?"
The Prince took the handkerchief by the ends of his toes and waved it;
the Princess bent down, took the handkerchief from his feet, and cried
out, angrily:
"I am thinking of it."
A year had passed thus, and the Princess said to herself, "It cannot
continue so; an end must be made of the affair, in one way or the
other." So she began thus to the Prince:
"I have the loveliest garden in the world, which I will show your
Highness to-morrow."
The Prince smelt at his apple again. When they came to the garden the
Prince began:
"It is wonderfully beautiful here; that we may be able to walk together
in peace, and not be disturbed by our game, I beg, my dear Princess,
that you will adopt my Court custom, if only for an hour, and allow
your hands to be bound. Then we shall be sure of each other, and
nothing vexatious can happen to us."
This did not please the Princess, but he entreated and she could not
refuse him this trifle. Thus they walked together, with their hands
bound in their girdles. The birds sang, the sun shone warm, and from
the branches the red cherries hung down almost touching their cheeks.
The Princess looked up at the cherries, and exclaimed:
"What a pity it is that your Highness cannot pluck some of them for
me."
The Prince answered, "Necessity is the mother of invention;" and
seizing a cherry with his mouth he offered it to the Princess. Nothing
remains for her but to put her mouth to his in order to take the
cherry, and when she had the fruit between her lips, and a kiss from
him in addition, she could not at the moment say, "I am thinking
of it."
Then he exclaimed, aloud, "Good morning, Philopena," drew his hands out
of his girdle and embraced her; they were of course married and if they
have not since died, they still live together in peace and happiness.
This story the Doctor had written and caused to be printed especially
for Laura, so that no one else could have the book.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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