So the Ladies-in-Waiting stood round her, and they spread out their dresses. The Swineherd got the kisses, and she got the pipkin.
How delighted she was. All the evening, and the whole of the next day that pot was made to boil. And you might have known what everybody was cooking on every hearth in the town from the Chamberlain's to the shoemaker's. The court ladies danced and clapped their hands.
“We know who is to have fruit, soup and pancakes. We know who is going to have porridge, and cutlets. How very interesting it is!”
“Most, interesting, indeed,” said the first Lady-of-Honour.
“Yes, but hold your tongues, because I am the Emperor's daughter.”
“Of course we will,” they cried in one breath.
The Swineherd, or rather the Prince, though they did not know but that he was a real swineherd, did not let the day pass without doing something, and he made a rattle which could play all the waltzes and the polkas and the hop-dances which had been known since the creation of the world.
“But this is superb,” said the Princess, who was just passing: “I have never heard more beautiful composition. Go and ask him the cost of the instrument. But I will give no more kisses.”
“He insists on a hundred kisses from the Princess,” said the Ladies-in-Waiting who had been down to ask.
“I think he must be quite mad,” said the Princess, and she walked away. But when she had taken a few steps, she stopped short, and said: “One must encourage the fine arts, and I am the Emperor's daughter. Tell him he may have ten kisses, as before, and the rest he can take from my Ladies-in-Waiting.”