“I can heal you within three days.”
She washed him with the milk and put the dried blood on the wounds, and on the third day the lad was healed.
“What do you want me to pay you?” said the lad.
“I do not want anything,” said the maiden; “I wish you only to remember my name.”
“What is it?” asked the lad.
“Incense-Tree is my name,” answered the maiden.
“Ah!” exclaimed the lad, “that is my wife’s name.”
“I am your wife,” said she, throwing away her masculine attire.
She fell on his neck sobbing, and told him how without a fault she was. They loved each other thereafter, and are still living in that deep fountain.
Three apples fell from heaven; one for me, one for the story-teller, and one for him who entertained the company.