Just then he came to a bridge, over the wall of which leaned an old man
with a long white beard, looking down into the water. He was dressed
richly but soberly, and every now and then he sighed and groaned, and as
the prince drew near he saw the tears falling--drip, drip--from the old
man’s eyes.
The prince had a kind heart, and could not bear to see one in distress;
so he spoke to the old man, and asked him his trouble.
“Ah, me!” said the other, “only yesterday I had a son, tall and handsome
like yourself. But the queen took him to sup with her, and I am left all
alone in my old age, like a tree stripped of leaves and fruit.”
“But surely,” said the prince, “it can be no such sad matter to sup with
a queen. That is an honor that most men covet.”
“Ah!” said the old man, “you are a stranger in this place, or else you
would know that no youth so chosen to sup with the queen ever returns to
his home again.”
“Yes,” said the prince, “I am a stranger and have only come hither this
day, and so do not understand these things. Even when I found you I was
about to ask the way to some inn where folk of good condition lodge.”
“Then come home with me to-night,” said the old man. “I live all alone,
and I will tell you the trouble that lies upon this country.” Thereupon,
taking the prince by the arm, he led him across the bridge and to
another quarter of the town where he dwelt. He bade the servants prepare
a fine supper, and he and the prince sat down to the table together.
After they had made an end of eating and drinking, the old man told the
prince all concerning those things of which he had spoken, and thus it
was:
“When the king of this land died he left behind him three daughters--the
most beautiful princesses in all of the world.
“Folk hardly dared speak of the eldest of them, but whisperings said
that she was a sorceress, and that strange and gruesome things were done
by her. The second princess was also a witch, though it was not said
that she was evil, like the other. As for the youngest of the three, she
was as beautiful as the morning and as gentle as a dove. When she was
born a golden thread was about her neck, and it was foretold of her that
she was to be the queen of that land.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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