The fisherman stood with the princess at his side in the banqueting-hall where slept the king and his guests. Taking the magic guzla from the maid, he pronounced these words:
“O guzla, play, and let thy sweetest harmonies resound
Through hall and cot, o’er hill and dale, and all the country round;
That by the power and beauty of thy heavenly tones and song
Awakened may these sleepers be who sleep too well, too long.”
When the first tones of music burst forth everything began to move and live again. The king finished proposing his toast. The chamberlain ended his tale. The guests continued to feast and enjoy themselves. The servants waited at their posts. In short, everything went on just as before, and as if nothing had happened to interrupt it.
And it was just the same in all the country round. Everything suddenly awoke to life. The labourer finished ploughing his furrow. The haymakers built up the hay in ricks. The reapers cut down the golden grain. The hunter’s gun went off and shot the duck. The trees rustled. The gardener went on with his work and his song. The rich, who thought only of enjoyment, entertained one another in luxury and splendour.
Now when the king caught sight of his daughter leaning on the fisherman’s arm he could hardly believe his own eyes, and it made him very angry. But the princess ran to him, and throwing herself in his arms, related all that he had accomplished. The monarch’s heart was softened, and he felt ashamed. With tears in his eyes he drew the fisherman towards him, and before the assembled company thanked him for having the third time saved his life.
“God has punished me for my ill-treatment of you,” said he. “Yet He is generous and forgives; I will fulfil all your wishes.”
He then added that the wedding feast should be held that very day, and that his only daughter would be married to the fisherman.