Next morning the Princess fell suddenly and dangerously ill. The most famous healers, quacks and doctors were summoned from the remotest corners of the peninsula, but all this was of small avail; she grew from bad to worse, until they all felt that mute Death could not be far away.
White Lotus in the meantime was in great anguish; helpless and lonely he wandered round the palace like a lost Soul in search of Paradise.
With a lover’s intuition he had divined who was to blame for this insidious vengeance which was intended to wound him mortally.
After fruitless deliberation, he quickly ascended the highest tower in the palace, and from there demanded obedience from the mutinous gods; but he was only derided; then he invoked their kindness and mercy.
After a long silence a clear voice rang out from the sky above him: “Sacrifice for sacrifice, weep seven times as the sun goes up and as the sun goes to rest, and those tears will save the Princess....”
He returned to the palace, and there, in great sadness and hope, wept tears for the redemption of a precious life. The crystal bowl filled with his tepid tears was brought to the dying Princess, and she was sprinkled with them and ablution was performed.
This improved her condition, and the ablution was repeated in the morning and in the evening for seven days and seven nights until the Princess recovered and then called for her saviour.
But now poor White Lotus had wept his eyes out, and had to be carried lean and misshapen into the arms of the Princess, and there, with a last quiver, he nestled against her heart and died happy.
They burned him with royal honors, and great festivities followed.