Really, if Narcissus had not been there to whisper in her ear and divert her attention, I don’t know what would have become of poor Potentilla, for though the first repetition of this absurdity amused her faintly, she nearly died of weariness before the time was over. Luckily Grumedan did not perceive this, as he was too much occupied in whipping up the frogs, many of whom perished miserably from fatigue, since he did not allow them to rest for a moment. The Prince’s next idea for Potentilla’s amusement was to cause a fleet of boats exactly like those of Cleopatra, of which you have doubtless read in history, to come up the little river, and upon the most gorgeously decorated of these reclined the great Queen herself, who, as soon as she reached the place where Potentilla sat in rapt attention, stepped majestically on shore and presented the Princess with that celebrated pearl of which you have heard so much, saying:
‘You are more beautiful than I ever was. Let my example warn you to make a better use of your beauty!’
And then the little fleet sailed on, until it was lost to view in the windings of the river. Grumedan was also looking on at the spectacle, and said very contemptuously:
‘I cannot say I think these marionettes amusing. What a to-do to make over a single pearl! But if you like pearls, madam, why, I will soon gratify you.’
So saying, he drew a whistle from his pocket, and no sooner had he blown it than the Princess saw the water of the river bubble and grow muddy, and in another instant up came hundreds of thousands of great oysters, who climbed slowly and laboriously towards her and laid at her feet all the pearls they contained.
‘Those are what I call pearls,’ cried Grumedan in high glee. And truly there were enough of them to pave every path in Potentilla’s garden and leave some to spare! The next day Prince Narcissus had prepared for the Princess’s pleasure a charming arbour of leafy branches, with couches of moss and grassy floor and garlands everywhere, with her name written in different coloured blossoms. Here he caused a dainty little banquet to be set forth, while hidden musicians played softly, and the silvery fountains plashed down into their marble basins, and when presently the music stopped a single nightingale broke the stillness with his delicious chant.
‘Ah!’ cried the Princess, recognising the voice of one of her favourites, ‘Philomel, my sweet one, who taught you that new song?’
