“What’s the matter? why don’t you go in?” cried the sprite impatiently.
Fear, and the strong impulse of self-preservation now aided the unhappy victim, and he replied, “Look at your own reflection in the water. How can you expect me who am but half your size, to carry you in there? Your weight is enough to drown me.”
“Do as you are bid, slave!” cried the sprite angrily, giving the boy a violent kick in the side. Hitherto he had contrived to keep his limbs out of the Prince’s sight, but Eigenwillig had now the opportunity of observing that his tormentor’s foot was the size of that of a full-grown man.
“You may drag me into the water if you will: you are stronger than I am, and I can’t help myself, but go, of my own free will, I won’t.”
The Prince spoke these words in a tone of resolute determination, and the sprite seemed to hesitate for a moment what he would do; but his mind was soon made up, for he gave the boy another kick, and much more severe than the first. It quite took the Prince’s breath away, and he was very near falling.
“If you kick me in that manner,” said he, “you will break my ribs, and then I shall be unable to carry you at all.”
“Go into the water, slave, or it will be the worse for you!” rejoined Selbst, and tried to force him forward. The Prince threw his arms round a young tree, and clung to it with all his strength.
“You’re as obstinate as a pig,” exclaimed the sprite, “and I have a great mind to throw you into the water, and hold you there till you are drowned,—only I don’t choose to make myself hotter than I am already.”
Thus he yielded the point, and proved himself a mere blustering bully.
As for the Prince, he was so amazed and confounded at so unexpected a change, that he was unable to avail himself of his own victory. Had he been sufficiently self-possessed, he would have reflected that now was the time to follow up his advantage, and never to rest till he had shaken off his troublesome companion. But the boy had been so cowed and alarmed at the sight of the prodigious size of his adversary, that he felt it would be hopeless to prolong the struggle,—that he must be worsted,—and so he hesitated and lost heart, at the very moment when Selbst was beginning to fear that his tyranny was at an end.