Beppo again shook his head. “Alas, my poor friend!” said he, and then he got upon his horse and rode away.
Three days passed.
“This morning,” said the princess, “when you go to the king, look at the prime-minister when the king speaks to you, and smile. The prime-minister will again speak to you, and this time say, It is well, and I wish you joy.’ Take what he gives you, for it will be of use.”
Again all happened just as the princess said.
Beppo came to the palace, and again the king whispered in his ear. As he did so Beppo looked at the prime-minister and smiled, and then he withdrew.
The prime-minister followed him. He trembled. “It is well,” said Beppo, “and I wish you joy.”
The prime-minister grasped his hand and wrung it. “My lord,” said he, “how can I express my gratitude! The palace of my son that stands by the river—I would that you would use it for your own, if I may be so bold as to offer it to you.”
“I will,” said Beppo, “use it as my own.”
The prime-minister wrung his hand again, and then Beppo rode away.
The next time that Beppo spoke to the king, at the princess’s bidding, he looked at the lord-treasurer, and said, as he had said to the prime-minister, “Alas, my poor friend!”