“Long live the King! You have built a church incomparably beautiful, but it lacks one thing.”
The monk was again about to make his exit when the King took hold of his collar, saying:
“Tell me what is the one thing lacking in my church. This is the third time that you compel me to take down my building, upon which so much labor and time have been spent.”
“The Fairy Nightingale is the only thing that is lacking in this magnificent church,” said the monk, and disappeared in the fog.
The King returned to his palace, and thereafter was very sad. He had three sons, who seeing their father sad, asked:
“Long live the King! What grieves you, father?”
“My sons,” said the King, “I am getting old, and the Fairy Nightingale is needed for the church. I do not know how to get it.”
“Be of good cheer, father,” said the lads; “we will go and bring it.”
And they started. After a long journey they came to a place where the road divided into three branches, with a sign on each. The sign of the broad road was,—“He who goes on this road returns safely.” The sign on the middle road was,—“He who goes on this road may return or may not return.” And the sign on the third narrow road was,—“He who goes on this road never returns.” The oldest brother took the broad road; the second brother took the middle road, and the youngest brother took the narrow road. The oldest lad soon came to a large city, at sight of which he said to himself:
“Why should I go farther and be killed? I would better stay in this place.” And he became a servant in one of the inns of the city.