Then Two-Eyes, quite cheered, came from beneath the barrel, and the Knight was surprised at her great beauty, and said, “You, Two-Eyes, can certainly break off a branch from the tree for me.”
“Yes,” replied Two-Eyes, “that I certainly shall be able to do, for the tree belongs to me.” And she climbed up, and with the greatest ease broke off a branch with beautiful silver leaves and golden fruit, and gave it to the Knight.
Then said the Knight, “Two-Eyes, what shall I give you for it?”
“Alas!” answered Two-Eyes, “I suffer from hunger and thirst, grief and want, from early morning till late night. If you would take me with you, and deliver me from these things, I should be happy.”
So the Knight lifted Two-Eyes on his horse, and took her home with him to his father’s castle. There he gave her beautiful clothes and meat and drink to her heart’s content. And as he loved her so much he married her, and the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicing.
When Two-Eyes was thus carried away by the handsome Knight, her two sisters grudged her good fortune in downright earnest. “The wonderful tree, however, remains with us,” thought they, “and even if we can gather no fruit from it, every one will stand still and look at it, and come to us and admire it. Who knows what good things may be in store for us?”
But next morning, the tree had vanished, and all their hopes were at an end. And when Two-Eyes looked out of the window of her own little room, to her great delight it was standing in front of it. And so it had followed her.
Two-Eyes lived a long time in happiness. One day, two poor women came to her castle, and begged for alms. She looked in their faces, and recognized her sisters, One-Eye, and Three-Eyes, who had fallen into such poverty that they had to wander about and beg their bread from door to door. Two-Eyes made them welcome, and was kind to them, and took care of them, so that they both, with all their hearts, repented of the evil that they had done in their youth to their sister.