For I do pride myself in having just as fiery a soul,
Nay, just as great a heart.
“Both of us are still in life’s early stages
And the same blood runs in our veins,
And if I cannot boast of such great royal fame
I may at least be proud of my strength and powerful determination.”
And, as though wishing to give his powerful strength a fair trial, the youth struck out with his fist against the stone and lo! the rock began to shake and split. When he looked at his fist he noticed that there was blood on it, and thereupon Mirian was more downcast and depressed than ever before.
“What possible use can my hero prince’s strength be to me when my heart is harder than stone?” he exclaimed, and again tears flowed down his face.
And so from the mixture of tears with dripping hero-blood, a little spring formed itself, which flows at the edge of a precipice—then again it makes its way through high, high stone blocks, like a wild animal and, having successfully overcome them, it cries and hops about like a child. Mikrandoukta did not at all share the intense attachment of Mirian and took no notice of it. Attaining her growth she married the Shah of Persia. On the day of her departure Mirian came to his little spring, fixed the sword between two stones and threw himself against it with such violence that the sharp blade went right through him. His youthful body slipped into the water, but the burning blood swelled the little rivulet and gave it a marvellous power of resistance. To this well known spot from that time onward, all true lovers streamed in, and if anybody has a really good chance over the turbulent, fairy-like stream, he will take to writing excellent verses and his love will be crowned with the most complete success; if, however, he expects and awaits inspiration, he must certainly give up all hope forever and his passion will, alas! slow down and come to nothing.
The first man who experienced these strange feelings and went through the whole thing was the negro Nebrotk. He fell deeply in love with his mistress, and even went so far as to venture to open his secret to her. The incensed and very frightened mistress immediately ordered that he should be drowned. They threw the unhappy “darky” in the stream of tears of the stremiannoy (body-knight) and went off; he at first lost consciousness, but later came back to his senses and came out on the opposite bank, completely cured of his useless passion. As he still felt uneasy and could not think of daring to return to his mistress, he built a little log house for himself on the bank of that ghastly precipice near which flowed the rivulet, and not knowing what to do with himself he wrote down the whole history of his life, then investigated the source and course of the remarkable stream and registered that too.