The lad said, ‘My mother I wore her, my father I rode him, from my death I drank water.’
The maiden looked in her book, could not find it. ‘Grant me a three days’ respite.’
‘I grant it you,’ said the lad. The lad arose, went to an inn, goes to sleep there.
The maiden saw she cannot find it out. The maiden set-to, had an underground passage made to the place where the lad lies sleeping. At midnight the maid arose, went to him, took the lad in her arms.
‘I am thine, thou art mine, only tell me the riddle.’
‘Not likely I should tell you. Strip yourself,’ said the lad to the maiden. The maiden stripped herself.
‘Tell me it.’ Then he told her.
The maiden clapped her hands; her servants came, took the maiden, and let her go. The maiden was wearing the lad’s sark, and the lad was wearing the maiden’s.
Day broke. They summoned the lad. The lad mounted his horse, and rides to the palace. The people see the lad. ‘’Tis a pity; they’ll kill him.’
He went up, and stood face to face with the king.