“Whip her,” said the prince.
“I am much obliged to you,” said the princess, “but I am afraid that I might not always be obedient, and I should not like to be whipped. Good-day.”
So the prince rode away home again with his knights, and the princess went on with her sewing.
Before long she again heard a whispering among the trees.
“Another suitor is riding along the road,” they said.
“Oh, and what is he like?” said the princess.
“He rides on a white horse,” said the ash-trees, “and he wears a blue velvet cap with a white feather in it. He carries a bunch of roses in his hand, and behind him ride six gentlemen in gaily coloured mantles with guitars slung over their shoulders. He has auburn hair and blue eyes. They ride at the trot.”
“He sounds rather pleasing,” said the princess, and she picked a flower from the syringa bush which grew at the entrance to the Rondel and stuck it in her hair.
“IF YOU WILL MARRY ME,” HE SAID, “I WILL SPEND MY DAYS MAKING VERSES ABOUT YOU.”