Meanwhile the sun had set, night had fallen, and every one in the palace was asleep, except the guard, the paladin, and the princess. The guard, sword in hand, patrolled up and down, for it was his duty. The princess toyed with her pretty little apple, and could not sleep. The paladin, who had gone to bed, was aroused by a sound that made his blood run cold, for the avenging wand stood before him and began to beat him soundly. And although he rushed from the room trying to escape from it, it followed him, crying out:
“False paladin, you worthless man,
Do not so envious be;
Why act unjustly, when you can
Both just and honest be?
For others’ goods why have you such a liking?
You rogue, you thief, be sure I’ll keep on striking.”
The unhappy man wept and cried for mercy, but the wand still continued to strike.
The princess was distressed on hearing these cries of distress, and she watered her much-cherished apple with her tears. And, strange to tell, the apple grew and changed its shape. Thus continuing to change, it suddenly turned into a handsome young man, even the very same who had been killed that morning.
“Lovely princess, I salute you,” said the fool. “The cunning of the paladin caused my death, but with your tears you have restored me to life. Your father promised to give you to me: are you willing?”