you shall have a wife
after your own heart."

The Prince, overjoyed, kissed the old woman's hairy hand a hundred
times, which seemed just like a hedgehog's back. Then taking his leave
he left that country, and coming to the seashore sailed for the Pillars
of Hercules, and arrived at our Sea, and after a thousand storms and
perils, he entered port a day's distance from his own kingdom. There he
came to a most beautiful grove, where the Shades formed a palace for
the Meadows, to prevent their being seen by the sun; and dismounting at
a fountain, which, with a crystal tongue, was inviting the people to
refresh their lips, he seated himself on a Syrian carpet formed by the
plants and flowers. Then he drew his knife from the sheath and began to
cut the first citron, when lo! there appeared like a flash of lightning
a most beautiful maiden, white as milk and red as a strawberry, who
said, "Give me to drink!" The Prince was so amazed, bewildered, and
captivated with the beauty of the fairy that he did not give her the
water quick enough, so she appeared and vanished at one and the same
moment. Whether this was a rap on the Prince's head, let any one judge
who, after longing for a thing, gets it into his hands and instantly
loses it again.

Then the Prince cut the second citron, and the same thing happened
again; and this was a second blow he got on his pate; so making two
little fountains of his eyes, he wept, face to face, tear for tear,
drop for drop, with the fountain, and sighing he exclaimed, "Good
heavens, how is it that I am so unfortunate? Twice I have let her
escape, as if my hands were tied; and here I sit like a rock, when I
ought to run like a greyhound. Faith indeed I have made a fine hand of
it! But courage, man! there is still another, and three is the lucky
number; either this knife shall give me the fay, or it shall take my
life away." So saying he cut the third citron, and forth came the third
fairy, who said like the others, "Give me to drink." Then the Prince
instantly handed her the water; and behold there stood before him a
delicate maiden, white as a junket with red streaks,--a thing never
before seen in the world, with a beauty beyond compare, a fairness
beyond the beyonds, a grace more than the most. On that hair Jove had
showered down gold, of which Love made his shafts to pierce all hearts;
that face the god of Love had tinged with red, that some innocent soul
should be hung on the gallows of desi