"What seekest, little dove?"
"My comb! Ihave purchased it from a workman for one hundred roubles; departing, he carried it off with him. Him I pursued, and he cast the comb in the water."
The lord descended from his carriage, removed his breeches, and entered the water in search of the comb. They searched; together they searched. On a sudden the pope's daughter perceived that a yard hung 'twixt the lord's legs. She seixed it with both hands, gripped it fast, and cried:
"Shame on thee, lord! 'Tis my comb! Give it me!"
"What dost thou, shameless one? Leave hold of me!" said the lord.
"Nay, 'tis thou who art shameless! Thou wouldst take what pertains to another. Give me my comb!"
And she dragged him by his yard to her father.
The pope gazed through the window. Behold, his daughter dragged a lord by his yard and never ceased from crying: "Give me my comb, wretched fellow!" what time the lord made plaintive sound, saying: "Little father, deliver me from a death not deserved! All my life I will not forget thee!"
From his drawers the pope drew forth his yard, displayed it to his daughter through the window, and cried:
"My daughter! my daughter! Here is thy comb!"
"Truly 'tis mine!" cried the daughter. "Be
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