‘Bid your father come hither and speak to me,’ said the emperor, but William did not move.
‘I fear lest harm should befall him through me,’ he answered, ‘and that shall never be.’ But the emperor smiled as he heard him.
‘Not harm, but good,’ he said; and William took courage and hastened down the path to the cottage.
‘I am the emperor,’ said the stranger, when the boy and the cowherd returned together. ‘Tell me truly, is this your son?’
Then the cowherd, trembling all over, told the whole story, and when he had finished the emperor said quietly:
‘You have done well, but from to-day the boy shall be mine, and shall grow up with my daughter.’
The heart of the cowherd sank as he thought how sorely he and his wife would miss William, but he kept silence. Not so William, who broke into sobs and wails.
‘I should have fared ill if this good man and his wife had not taken me and nourished me. I know not whence I came or whither I shall go! None can be so kind as they have been.’
‘Cease weeping, fair child,’ said the emperor, ‘some day you shall be able to reward the good that they have done you;’ and then the cowherd spoke and gave him wise counsel how to behave himself at court.
‘Be no teller of tales, and let your words be few. Be true to your lord, and fair of speech to all men; and seek to help the poor when you may.’