"Now," said the saint, "I have divided it fairly, one for me, and one for you, and one for him who ate the heart."
"Oh, I ate that," said the soldier, quickly taking up the gold. "I did, I assure you."
"How can that be true?" replied the saint. "A lamb has no heart."
"Ay! what, brother? What are you thinking of? A lamb has no heart? Very good! When every beast has why should that one be without?"
"Now that is very good," said the saint. "Take all the gold yourself, for I shall remain no more with you, but will go my own way alone."
"As you please, Brother Heart," answered the soldier. "A pleasant journey to you, my hearty."
The saint took another road, and as he went off—
"Well," thought the soldier, "it's all right that he has marched off, for he is an odd fellow."
Brother Merry had now plenty of money, but he did not know how to use it, so he spent it and gave it away, till in the course of a little time he found himself once more penniless. At last he came into a country where he heard that the king's daughter was dead.
"Ah!" thought he, "that may turn out well. I'll bring her to life again."