"Wash and robe thyself," she said, giving him some clothes, "and then I have much to inquire of thee."
The shepherd felt ever so much better when he had bathed, and then attired in the strange garments she had given him, he appeared before the princess.
She gazed at him so long and searchingly that he blushed in confusion.
"Thou art fair to look upon and of manly stature," said the princess.
The shepherd could only stammer a reply, but after a while he said, "Fair lady, who and what thou art I know not. Such beauty as thine is the right of princesses only. I am but a poor shepherd."
"And may not a shepherd be handsome?" she asked. "Tell me: who hath laid down a law that only royal personages may be fair to behold? I have seen princes of vile countenance."
She stopped suddenly, for she did not wish to betray her secret. They sat in a little room in the tower, unknown to the many guards down below, and, although the shepherd protested, the princess waited on him herself, bringing him food, and cushions on which he could rest that night.
Next morning they ascended the tower together.
"I come here every morning," said the princess.
"Why?" the shepherd asked.