A king had two sons. They were a pair of reckless fellows, who always
had something foolish to do. One day they rowed out alone on the sea in
a little boat. It was beautiful weather when they set out, but as soon
as they had got some distance from the shore there arose a terrific
storm. The oars went overboard at once, and the little boat was tossed
about on the rolling billows like a nut-shell. The princes had to hold
fast by the seats to keep from being thrown out of the boat.

In the midst of all this they met a wonderful vessel--it was a
dough-trough, in which there sat an old woman. She called to them, and
said that they could still get to shore alive if they would promise her
the son that was next to come to their mother the queen.

'We can't do that,' shouted the princes; 'he doesn't belong to us so we
can't give him away.'

'Then you can rot at the bottom of the sea, both of you,' said the old
woman; 'and perhaps it may be the case that your mother would rather
keep the two sons she has than the one she hasn't got yet.'

Then she rowed away in her dough-trough, while the storm howled still
louder than before, and the water dashed over their boat until it was
almost sinking. Then the princes thought that there was something in
what the old woman had said about their mother, and being, of course,
eager to save their lives, they shouted to her, and promised that she
should have their brother if she would deliver them from this danger. As
soon as they had done so the storm ceased and the waves fell. The boat
drove ashore below their father's castle, and both princes were received
with open arms by their father and mother, who had suffered great
anxiety for them.

The two brothers said nothing about what they had promised, neither at
that time nor later on when the queen's third son came, a beautiful boy,
whom she loved more than anything else in the world. He was brought up
and educated in his father's house until he was full grown, and still
his brothers had never seen or heard anything about the witch to whom
they had promised him before he was born.

It happened one evening that there arose a raging storm, with mist and
darkness. It howled and roared around the king's palace, and in the
midst of it there came a loud knock on the door of the hall where the
youngest prince was. He went to the door and found there an old woman
with a dough- trough on her back, who said to him that he must go with
her at once; his brothers had promised him to her if she would save
their lives.

'Yes,' said he; 'if you saved my brothers' lives, and they promised me
to you, then I will go with you.'

They therefore went down to the beach together, where he had to take his
seat in the trough, along with the witch, who sailed away with him, over
the sea, home to her dwelling.

The prince was now in the witch's power, and in her service. The first
thing she set him to was to pick feathers. 'The heap of feathers that
you see here,' said she, 'you must get finished before I come home in
the evening, otherwise you shall be set to harder work.' He started
to the feathers, and picked and picked until there was only a single
feather left that had not passed through his hands. But then there came
a whirlwind and sent all the feathers flying, and swept them along the
floor into a heap, where they lay as if they were trampled together.
He had now to begin all his work over again, but by this time it only
wanted an hour of evening, when the witch was to be expected home, and
he easily saw that it was impossible for him to be finished by that
time.

Then he heard something tapping at the window pane, and a thin voice
said, 'Let me in, and I will help you.' It was a white dove, which sat
outside the window, and was pecking at it with its beak. He opened the
window, and the dove came in and set to work at once, and picked all
the feathers out of the heap with its beak. Before the hour was past the
feathers were all nicely arranged: the dove flew out at the window, and
at, the same moment the witch came in at the door.

'Well, well,' said she, 'it was more than I would have expected of you
to get all the feathers put in order so nicely. However, such a prince
might be expected to have neat fingers.'

Next morning the witch said to the prince, 'To-day you shall have some
easy work to do. Outside the door I have some firewood lying; you must
split that for me into little bits that I can kindle the fire with. That
will soon be done, but you must be finished before I come home.'

The prince got a little axe and set to work at once. He split and clove
away, and thought that he was getting on fast; but the day wore on until
it was long past midday, and he was still very far from having finished.
He thought, in fact, that the pile of wood rather grew bigger than
smaller, in spite of what he took off it; so he let his hands fall by
his side, and dried the sweat from his forehead, and was ill at ease,
for he knew that it would be bad for him if he was not finished with the
work before the witch came home.

Then the white dove came flying and settled down on the pile of wood,
and cooed and said, 'Shall I help you?'

'Yes,' said the prince, 'many thanks for your help yesterday, and for
what you offer to-day.' Thereupon the little dove seized one piece of
wood after another and split it with its beak. The prince could not take
away the wood as quickly as the dove could split it, and in a short time
it was all cleft into little sticks.

The dove then flew up on his shoulder and sat there and the prince
thanked it, and stroked and caressed its white feathers, and kissed
its little red beak. With that it was a dove no longer, but a beautiful
young maiden, who stood by his side. She told him then that she was a
princess whom the witch had stolen, and had changed to this shape,
but with his kiss she had got her human form again; and if he would be
faithful to her, and take her to wife, she could free them both from the
witch's power.

The prince was quite captivated by the beautiful princess, and was quite
willing to do anything whatsoever to get her for himself.

She then said to him, 'When the witch comes home you must ask her to
grant you a wish, when you have accomplished so well all that she has
demanded of you. When she agrees to this you must ask her straight out
for the princess that she has flying about as a white dove. But just now
you must take a red silk thread and tie it round my little finger, so
that you may be able to recognise me again, into whatever shape she
turns me.'

The prince made haste to get the silk thread tied round her little white
finger; at the same moment the princess became a dove again and flew
away, and immediately after that the old witch came home with her
dough-trough on he back.

'Well,' said she, 'I must say that you are clever at your work, and it
is something, too, that such princely hands are not accustomed to.'

'Since you are so well pleased with my work, said the prince, 'you
will, no doubt, be willing to give me a little pleasure too, and give me
something that I have taken a fancy to.'

'Oh yes, indeed,' said the old woman; 'what is it that you want?'

'I want the princess here who is in the shape of a white dove,' said the
prince.

'What nonsense!' said the witch. 'Why should you imagine that there are
princesses here flying about in the shape of white doves? But if you
will have a princess, you can get one such as we have them.' She then
came to him, dragging a shaggy little grey ass with long ears. 'Will you
have this?' said she; 'you can't get any other princess!'

The prince used his eyes and saw the red silk thread on one of the ass's
hoofs, so he said, 'Yes, just let me have it.'

'What will you do with it?' asked the witch.

'I will ride on it,' said the prince; but with that the witch dragged
it away again, and came back with an old, wrinkled, toothless hag, whose
hands trembled with age. 'You can have no other princess,' said she.
'Will you have her?'

'Yes, I will,' said the prince, for he saw the red silk thread on the
old woman's finger.

At this the witch became so furious that she danced about and knocked
everything to pieces that she could lay her hands upon, so that the
splinters flew about the ears of the prince and princess, who now stood
there in her own beautiful shape.

Then their marriage had to be celebrated, for the witch had to stick
to what she had promised, and he must get the princess whatever might
happen afterwards.

The princess now said to him, 'At the marriage feast you may eat what
you please, but you must not drink anything whatever, for if you do that
you will forget me.'

This, however, the prince forgot on the wedding day, and stretched out
his hand and took a cup of wine; but the princess was keeping watch over
him, and gave him a push with her elbow, so that the wine flew over the
table- cloth.

Then the witch got up and laid about her among the plates and dishes, so
that the pieces flew about their ears, just as she had done when she was
cheated the first time.

They were then taken to the bridal chamber, and the door was shut. Then
the princess said, 'Now the witch has kept her promise, but she will do
no more if she can help it, so we must fly immediately. I shall lay two
pieces of wood in the bed to answer for us when the witch speaks to us.
You can take the flower-pot and the glass of water that stands in the
window, and we must slip out by that and get away.'

No sooner said than done. They hurried off out into the dark night, the
princess leading, because she knew the way, having spied it out while
she flew about as a dove.

At midnight the witch came to the door of the room and called in to
them, and the two pieces of wood answered her, so that she believed they
were there, and went away again. Before daybreak she was at the door
again and called to them, and again the pieces of wood answered for
them. She thus thought that she had them, and when the sun rose the
bridal night was past: she had then kept her promise, and could vent her
anger and revenge on both of them. With the first sunbeam she broke into
the room, but there she found no prince and no princess--nothing but the
two pieces of firewood, which lay in the bed, and stared, and spoke not
a word. These she threw on the floor, so that they were splintered into
a thousand pieces, and off she hastened after the fugitives.

With the first sunbeam the princess said to the prince, 'Look round; do
you see anything behind us?'

'Yes, I see a dark cloud, far away,' said he.

'Then throw the flower-pot over your head,' said she. When this was done
there was a large thick forest behind them.

When the witch came to the forest she could not get through it until she
went home and brought her axe to cut a path.

A little after this the princess said again to the prince, 'Look round;
do you see anything behind us?'

'Yes,' said the prince, 'the big black cloud is there again.'

'Then throw the glass of water over your head,' said she.

When he had done this there was a great lake behind them, and this
the witch could not cross until she ran home again and brought her
dough-trough.

Meanwhile the fugitives had reached the castle which was the prince's
home. They climbed over the garden wall, ran across the garden, and
crept in at an open window. By this time the witch was just at their
heels, but the princess stood in the window and blew upon the witch;
hundreds of white doves flew out of her mouth, fluttered and flapped
around the witch's head until she grew so angry that she turned into
flint, and there she stands to this day, in the shape of a large flint
stone, outside the window.

Within the castle there was great rejoicing over the prince and his
bride. His two elder brothers came and knelt before him and confessed
what they had done, and said that he alone should inherit the kingdom,
and they would always be his faithful subjects.

There was once a girl so poor that she had nothing to live on, and
wandered about the world asking for charity. One day she arrived at
a thatched cottage, and inquired if they could give her any work. The
farmer said he wanted a cowherd, as his own had left him, and if the
girl liked the place she might take it. So she became a cowherd.

One morning she was driving her cows through the meadows when she heard
near by a loud groan that almost sounded human. She hastened to the spot
from which the noise came, and found it proceeded from a lion who lay
stretched upon the ground.

You can guess how frightened she was! But the lion seemed in such pain
that she was sorry for him, and drew nearer and nearer till she saw he
had a large thorn in one foot. She pulled out the thorn and bound up the
place, and the lion was grateful, and licked her hand by way of thanks
with his big rough tongue.

When the girl had finished she went back to find the cows, but they had
gone, and though she hunted everywhere she never found them; and she had
to return home and confess to her master, who scolded her bitterly, and
afterwards beat her. Then he said, 'Now you will have to look after the
asses.'

So every day she had to take the asses to the woods to feed, until one
morning, exactly a year after she had found the lion, she heard a groan
which sounded quite human. She went straight to the place from which the
noise came, and, to her great surprise, beheld the same lion stretched
on the ground with a deep wound across his face.

This time she was not afraid at all, and ran towards him, washing the
wound and laying soothing herbs upon it; and when she had bound it up
the lion thanked her in the same manner as before.

After that she returned to her flock, but they were nowhere to be
seen. She searched here and she searched there, but they had vanished
completely!

Then she had to go home and confess to her master, who first scolded her
and afterwards beat her. 'Now go,' he ended, 'and look after the pigs!'

So the next day she took out the pigs, and found them such good feeding
grounds that they grew fatter every day.

Another year passed by, and one morning when the maiden was out with her
pigs she heard a groan which sounded quite human. She ran to see what
it was, and found her old friend the lion, wounded through and through,
fast dying under a tree.

She fell on her knees before him and washed his wounds one by one, and
laid healing herbs upon them. And the lion licked her hands and thanked
her, and asked if she would not stay and sit by him. But the girl said
she had her pigs to watch, and she must go and see after them.

So she ran to the place where she had left them, but they had vanished
as if the earth had swallowed them up. She whistled and called, but only
the birds answered her.

Then she sank down on the ground and wept bitterly, not daring to return
home until some hours had passed away.

And when she had had her cry out she got up and searched all up and down
the wood. But it was no use; there was not a sign of the pigs.

At last she thought that perhaps if she climbed a tree she might
see further. But no sooner was she seated on the highest branch than
something happened which put the pigs quite out of her head. This was a
handsome young man who was coming down the path; and when he had almost
reached the tree he pulled aside a rock and disappeared behind it.

The maiden rubbed her eyes and wondered if she had been dreaming. Next
she thought, 'I will not stir from here till I see him come out, and
discover who he is.' Accordingly she waited, and at dawn the next
morning the rock moved to one side and a lion came out.

When he had gone quite out of sight the girl climbed down from the tree
and went to the rock, which she pushed aside, and entered the opening
before her. The path led to a beautiful house. She went in, swept and
dusted the furniture, and put everything tidy. Then she ate a very good
dinner, which was on a shelf in the corner, and once more clambered up
to the top of her tree.

As the sun set she saw the same young man walking gaily down the path,
and, as before, he pushed aside the rock and disappeared behind it.

Next morning out came the lion. He looked sharply about him on all
sides, but saw no one, and then vanished into the forest.

The maiden then came down from the tree and did exactly as she had done
the day before. Thus three days went by, and every day she went and
tidied up the palace. At length, when the girl found she was no nearer
to discovering the secret, she resolved to ask him, and in the evening
when she caught sight of him coming through the wood she came down from
the tree and begged him to tell her his name.

The young man looked very pleased to see her, and said he thought it
must be she who had secretly kept his house for so many days. And he
added that he was a prince enchanted by a powerful giant, but was only
allowed to take his own shape at night, for all day he was forced to
appear as the lion whom she had so often helped; and, more than this,
it was the giant who had stolen the oxen and the asses and the pigs in
revenge for her kindness.

And the girl asked him, 'What can I do to disenchant you?'

But he said he was afraid it was very difficult, because the only way
was to get a lock of hair from the head of a king's daughter, to spin
it, and to make from it a cloak for the giant, who lived up on the top
of a high mountain.

'Very well,' answered the girl, 'I will go to the city, and knock at
the door of the king's palace, and ask the princess to take me as a
servant.'

So they parted, and when she arrived at the city she walked about the
streets crying, 'Who will hire me for a servant? Who will hire me for a
servant?' But, though many people liked her looks, for she was clean and
neat, the maiden would listen to none, and still continued crying, 'Who
will hire me for a servant? Who will hire me for a servant?'

At last there came the waiting-maid of the princess.

'What can you do?' she said; and the girl was forced to confess that she
could do very little.

'Then you will have to do scullion's work, and wash up dishes,' said
she; and they went straight back to the palace.

Then the maiden dressed her hair afresh, and made herself look very neat
and smart, and everyone admired and praised her, till by-and-bye it came
to the ears of the princess. And she sent for the girl, and when she saw
her, and how beautifully she had dressed her hair, the princess told her
she was to come and comb out hers.

Now the hair of the princess was very thick and long, and shone like
the sun. And the girl combed it and combed it till it was brighter than
ever. And the princess was pleased, and bade her come every day and comb
her hair, till at length the girl took courage, and begged leave to cut
off one of the long, thick locks.

The princess, who was very proud of her hair, did not like the idea of
parting with any of it, so she said no. But the girl could not give
up hope, and each day she entreated to be allowed to cut off just one
tress. At length the princess lost patience, and exclaimed, 'You may
have it, then, on condition that you shall find the handsomest prince in
the world to be my bridegroom!'

And the girl answered that she would, and cut off the lock, and wove it
into a coat that glittered like silk, and brought it to the young man,
who told her to carry it straight to the giant. But that she must be
careful to cry out a long way off what she had with her, or else he
would spring upon her and run her through with his sword.

So the maiden departed and climbed up the mountain, but before she
reached the top the giant heard her footsteps, and rushed out breathing
fire and flame, having a sword in one hand and a club in the other. But
she cried loudly that she had brought him the coat, and then he grew
quiet, and invited her to come into his house.

He tried on the coat, but it was too short, and he threw it off, and
declared it was no use. And the girl picked it up sadly, and returned
quite in despair to the king's palace.

The next morning, when she was combing the princess's hair, she begged
leave to cut off another lock. At first the princess said no, but the
girl begged so hard that at length she gave in on condition that she
should find her a prince as bridegroom.

The maiden told her that she had already found him, and spun the lock
into shining stuff, and fastened it on to the end of the coat. And when
it was finished she carried it to the giant.

This time it fitted him, and he was quite pleased, and asked her what
he could give her in return. And she said that the only reward he could
give her was to take the spell off the lion and bring him back to his
own shape.

For a long time the giant would not hear of it, but in the end he gave
in, and told her exactly how it must all be done. She was to kill the
lion herself and cut him up very small; then she must burn him, and cast
his ashes into the water, and out of the water the prince would come
free from enchantment for ever.

But the maiden went away weeping, lest the giant should have deceived
her, and that after she had killed the lion she would find she had also
slain the prince.

Weeping she came down the mountain, and weeping she joined the prince,
who was awaiting her at the bottom; and when he had heard her story he
comforted her, and bade her be of good courage, and to do the bidding of
the giant.

And the maiden believed what the prince told her; and in the morning
when he put on his lion's form she took a knife and slew him, and cut
him up very small, and burnt him, and cast his ashes into the water, and
out of the water came the prince, beautiful as the day, and as glad to
look upon as the sun himself.


Then the young man thanked the maiden for all she had done for him, and
said she should be his wife and none other. But the maiden only wept
sore, and answered that that she could never be, for she had given her
promise to the princess when she cut off her hair that the prince should
wed her and her only.

But the prince replied, 'If it is the princess, we must go quickly. Come
with me.'

So they went together to the king's palace. And when the king and queen
and princess saw the young man a great joy filled their hearts, for they
knew him for the eldest son, who had long ago been enchanted by a giant
and lost to them.

And he asked his parents' consent that he might marry the girl who had
saved him, and a great feast was made, and the maiden became a princess,
and in due time a queen, and she richly deserved all the honours
showered upon her.

Long ago there lived a rich merchant who, besides possessing more
treasures than any king in the world, had in his great hall three
chairs, one of silver, one of gold, and one of diamonds. But his
greatest treasure of all was his only daughter, who was called
Catherine.

One day Catherine was sitting in her own room when suddenly the door
flew open, and in came a tall and beautiful woman holding in her hands a
little wheel.

'Catherine,' she said, going up to the girl, 'which would you rather
have-a happy youth or a happy old age?'

Catherine was so taken by surprise that she did not know what to answer,
and the lady repeated again, 'Which would you rather have-a happy youth
or a happy old age?'

Then Catherine thought to herself, 'If I say a happy youth, then I shall
have to suffer all the rest of my life. No, I would bear trouble now,
and have something better to look forward to.' So she looked up and
replied, 'Give me a happy old age.'

'So be it,' said the lady, and turned her wheel as she spoke, vanishing
the next moment as suddenly as she had come.

Now this beautiful lady was the Destiny of poor Catherine.

Only a few days after this the merchant heard the news that all his
finest ships, laden with the richest merchandise, had been sunk in a
storm, and he was left a beggar. The shock was too much for him. He took
to his bed, and in a short time he was dead of his disappointment.

So poor Catherine was left alone in the world without a penny or a
creature to help her. But she was a brave girl and full of spirit, and
soon made up her mind that the best thing she could do was to go to the
nearest town and become a servant. She lost no time in getting herself
ready, and did not take long over her journey; and as she was passing
down the chief street of the town a noble lady saw her out of the
window, and, struck by her sad face, said to her: 'Where are you going
all alone, my pretty girl?'

'Ah, my lady, I am very poor, and must go to service to earn my bread.'

'I will take you into my service,' said she; and Catherine served her
well.

Some time after her mistress said to Catherine, 'I am obliged to go out
for a long while, and must lock the house door, so that no thieves shall
get in.'

So she went away, and Catherine took her work and sat down at the
window. Suddenly the door burst open, and in came her Destiny.

'Oh! so here you are, Catherine! Did you really think I was going to
leave you in peace?' And as she spoke she walked to the linen press
where Catherine's mistress kept all her finest sheets and underclothes,
tore everything in pieces, and flung them on the floor. Poor Catherine
wrung her hands and wept, for she thought to herself, 'When my lady
comes back and sees all this ruin she will think it is my fault,' and
starting up, she fled through the open door. Then Destiny took all the
pieces and made them whole again, and put them back in the press, and
when everything was tidy she too left the house.

When the mistress reached home she called Catherine, but no Catherine
was there. 'Can she have robbed me?' thought the old lady, and looked
hastily round the house; but nothing was missing. She wondered why
Catherine should have disappeared like this, but she heard no more of
her, and in a few days she filled her place.

Meanwhile Catherine wandered on and on, without knowing very well where
she was going, till at last she came to another town. Just as before,
a noble lady happened to see her passing her window, and called out to
her, 'Where are you going all alone, my pretty girl?'

And Catherine answered, 'Ah, my lady, I am very poor, and must go to
service to earn my bread.'

'I will take you into my service,' said the lady; and Catherine served
her well, and hoped she might now be left in peace. But, exactly as
before, one day that Catherine was left in the house alone her Destiny
came again and spoke to her with hard words: 'What! are you here now?'
And in a passion she tore up everything she saw, till in sheer misery
poor Catherine rushed out of the house. And so it befell for seven
years, and directly Catherine found a fresh place her Destiny came and
forced her to leave it.

After seven years, however, Destiny seemed to get tired of persecuting
her, and a time of peace set in for Catherine. When she had been chased
away from her last house by Destiny's wicked pranks she had taken
service with another lady, who told her that it would be part of her
daily work to walk to a mountain that overshadowed the town, and,
climbing up to the top, she was to lay on the ground some loaves
of freshly baked bread, and cry with a loud voice, 'O Destiny, my
mistress,' three times. Then her lady's Destiny would come and take away
the offering. 'That will I gladly do,' said Catherine.

So the years went by, and Catherine was still there, and every day
she climbed the mountain with her basket of bread on her arm. She was
happier than she had been, but sometimes, when no one saw her, she would
weep as she thought over her old life, and how different it was to the
one she was now leading. One day her lady saw her, and said, 'Catherine,
what is it? Why are you always weeping?' And then Catherine told her
story.

'I have got an idea,' exclaimed the lady. 'To-morrow, when you take the
bread to the mountain, you shall pray my Destiny to speak to yours, and
entreat her to leave you in peace. Perhaps something may come of it!'

At these words Catherine dried her eyes, and next morning, when she
climbed the mountain, she told all she had suffered, and cried, 'O
Destiny, my mistress, pray, I entreat you, of my Destiny that she may
leave me in peace.'

And Destiny answered, 'Oh, my poor girl, know you not your Destiny lies
buried under seven coverlids, and can hear nothing? But if you will come
to-morrow I will bring her with me.'

And after Catherine had gone her way her lady's Destiny went to find
her sister, and said to her, 'Dear sister, has not Catherine suffered
enough? It is surely time for her good days to begin?'

And the sister answered, 'To-morrow you shall bring her to me, and I
will give her something that may help her out of her need.'

The next morning Catherine set out earlier than usual for the mountain,
and her lady's Destiny took the girl by the hand and led her to her
sister, who lay under the seven coverlids. And her Destiny held out
to Catherine a ball of silk, saying, 'Keep this--it may be useful some
day;' then pulled the coverings over her head again.

But Catherine walked sadly down the hill, and went straight to her lady
and showed her the silken ball, which was the end of all her high hopes.

'What shall I do with it?' she asked. 'It is not worth sixpence, and it
is no good to me!'

'Take care of it,' replied her mistress. 'Who can tell how useful it may
be?'

A little while after this grand preparations were made for the king's
marriage, and all the tailors in the town were busy embroidering fine
clothes. The wedding garment was so beautiful nothing like it had ever
been seen before, but when it was almost finished the tailor found that
he had no more silk. The colour was very rare, and none could be found
like it, and the king made a proclamation that if anyone happened to
possess any they should bring it to the court, and he would give them a
large sum.

'Catherine!' exclaimed the lady, who had been to the tailors and seen
the wedding garment, 'your ball of silk is exactly the right colour.
Bring it to the king, and you can ask what you like for it.'

Then Catherine put on her best clothes and went to the court, and looked
more beautiful than any woman there.

'May it please your majesty,' she said, 'I have brought you a ball of
silk of the colour you asked for, as no one else has any in the town.'

'Your majesty,' asked one of the courtiers, 'shall I give the maiden its
weight in gold?'

The king agreed, and a pair of scales were brought; and a handful of
gold was placed in one scale and the silken ball in the other. But lo!
let the king lay in the scales as many gold pieces as he would, the silk
was always heavier still. Then the king took some larger scales, and
heaped up all his treasures on one side, but the silk on the other
outweighed them all. At last there was only one thing left that had not
been put in, and that was his golden crown. And he took it from his head
and set it on top of all, and at last the scale moved and the ball had
founds its balance.

'Where got you this silk?' asked the king.

'It was given me, royal majesty, by my mistress,' replied Catherine.

'That is not true,' said the king, 'and if you do not tell me the truth
I will have your head cut off this instant.'

So Catherine told him the whole story, and how she had once been as rich
as he.

Now there lived at the court a wise woman, and she said to Catherine,
'You have suffered much, my poor girl, but at length your luck has
turned, and I know by the weighing of the scales through the crown that
you will die a queen.'

'So she shall,' cried the king, who overheard these words; 'she shall
die my queen, for she is more beautiful than all the ladies of the
court, and I will marry no one else.'

And so it fell out. The king sent back the bride he had promised to wed
to her own country, and the same Catherine was queen at the marriage
feast instead, and lived happy and contented to the end of her life.