"How beautiful she is!" cried the prince, so ravished by her charms that he forgot the advice of the Fate. He paid dearly for it; in a second the fairy had disappeared. Carlino smote his breast in despair, and stood as astonished as a child that sees the running water slip through his fingers.
He tried to calm himself, and cut the next citron with a trembling hand, but the second fairy was even more beautiful and more fleeting than her sister. While Carlino admired her, wonder-struck, in the twinkling of an eye she took flight.
This time the prince burst into tears and wept so bitterly that he seemed a part of the fountain. He sobbed, tore his hair, and called down all the maledictions of Heaven on his head.
"Fool that I am!" he cried; "twice I have let her escape as though my hands were tied. Fool that I am, I deserve my fate. When I should have run like a greyhound I stood still like a post. A fine piece of business! But all is not lost; the third time conquers. I will try the magic knife once more, and if it deceives me this time I will use it on myself."
He cut the last citron. The third fairy darted forth and said, like her companions, "Give me a drink!" But the prince had learned a lesson. He instantly gave her the water, when, lo! a beautiful, slender young girl, as white as milk, with cheeks like roses, stood before him, looking like a freshly opened rosebud. She was a marvel of beauty such as the world had never seen, as fresh as a lily and as graceful as a swan; her hair was of brighter gold than the sun, her clear blue eyes revealed the depths of her heart, her rosy lips seemed made only to comfort and charm; in a word, from head to foot she was the most enchanting creature that had ever descended from heaven to earth. It is a great pity that we have no likeness of her.
HE INSTANTLY GAVE HER THE WATER, WHEN, LO! A BEAUTIFUL, SLENDER YOUNG GIRL STOOD BEFORE HIM
At the sight of his bride the prince almost lost his reason from joy and surprise. He could not understand how this miracle of freshness and beauty had sprung from the bitter rind of a citron.
"Am I asleep?" he cried. "Am I dreaming? If I am the sport of a delusion, for pity's sake do not awaken me."