The Prince of Summer stopped and looked out over the kingdom where the noise was gradually subsiding:
“Do you hear them?” he asked. “They must die and they do not know it. Now do you take them into your gentle keeping.”
“I shall bring your produce home,” said Autumn. “I shall watch carefully over them that dream, I shall cover up lovingly them that are to sleep in the mould. I will warn them thrice of Winter’s coming.”
“It is well,” said Summer.
They walked in silence for a time, while night came forth.
“The honeysuckle’s petals fell when you blew your horn,” said Summer. “Some of my children will die at the moment when I leave the valley. But the nightingale and the cuckoo and the stork I shall take with me.”
Again the two princes walked in silence. It was quite still; only the owls hooted in the old dead oak.
“You must send my birds after me,” said Summer.
“I shall not forget,” replied Autumn.
Then the Prince of Summer raised his hand in farewell and bade Autumn take possession of the kingdom: