When they saw this they hastened to tell the Prince, and as he saw no way of getting over the difficulty, nothing was left for him but to excuse himself to the guests for that day and invite them to return upon the morrow.
The next day, when all was ready and the servants went to announce it, some one came again and threw all the food about the kitchen and broke all the dishes. The servants wondered at this no less than the Emperor’s son himself, and the Prince ordered that a feast should again be prepared upon the third day and that some one should keep watch through the keyhole to discover the mischief-maker.
When the meal was ready every one left the room and peeped through the keyhole to catch the culprit. Behold, what did they see? A golden-haired maiden!
The attendants flew back into the kitchen, held the little culprit fast, and called to the Emperor’s son. As soon as he beheld the maiden he was beside himself with surprise and joy, and he asked her how she had come into the kitchen.
At first she was terrified, but at last she confessed to him secretly that she was the basil-plant which he watched and tended so carefully, and which shed such sweet perfume in his room; that she thought the feast was in honor of his wedding, and this had made her unhappy, for she had hoped that he would marry her and not another maiden.
When the Prince heard these words and saw that the maiden was beautiful beyond all comparison, he was most happy, and assured the maiden that he would marry her as soon as she had embraced the Christian faith. She declared herself ready to do this without delay.
In the meantime, however, the Prince’s time of service in the army arrived, and he was so much needed that he could by no means be permitted to absent himself. He therefore called his beloved to him before his departure and said to her:
“I must go to the army. With a bleeding heart I part from you; but, I pray you, change yourself again into a basil-plant and remain so until my return. Show yourself to no one, whoever it may be, who enters this room. And on my return, if God wills, I will ring this little bell, and then do you again take on your present form.”
When he had once again kissed her she changed herself into a basil-plant, and he rode away. But two maidens who loved the Prince, and who of late had found themselves neglected and forgotten, soon learned the cause of their sorrow—namely, that the Prince had chosen another maiden. Therefore they agreed to force their way into the Prince’s room and search for some token of her.
When they were there they found nothing except his clothes and the basil-plant, and in it they saw nothing remarkable. They rummaged all around the room, trying to find some clew to the whereabouts of the maiden, and one of them in her restlessness took the little bell in her hand and rang it. The sorrowing golden-haired maiden, believing that it was the Prince who rang the bell, immediately changed herself back into human shape and suddenly appeared between the two.