“Indeed, thou art too good,” replied Yoo-ti-hu; “I am going now to rove the world as a simple minstrel. I shall live on birds, and amuse myself with my lute,—so I need nothing more.”
“But, son, I solemnly swear thou shalt have three things, be they never so costly.”
“Well, good Genius, since thou art so kindly disposed, I shall choose an inexhaustible purse.”
“The very thing I have in my pocket,” quoth the Genius, and handing the inexhaustible purse to Yoo-ti-hu, he disappeared immediately.
III. Tally-yang-sang in a Plight.
Yoo-ti-hu seated himself on the steps of a fountain to admire his bow and his lute. Tally-yang-sang, chancing to roam in the vicinity, espied the page, whereupon he assumed a very severe countenance, and approaching the spot, spoke thus: “Yoo-ti-hu, thou art an unfaithful wretch! Thou hast betrayed the confidence of thy king. Thou hast entered his harem and stolen the heart of Omanea! Know, then, that I am commanded to carry him thy head, as a slight token of his displeasure.”
“Verily, great and worthy nazir,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “I can show thee pleasanter sport than that. Seest thou yon Bird of Paradise, with plumage more bright than the colors of Iris? Behold, your highness, how I shall shoot him!” Yoo-ti-hu drew his bow—shut his eyes—and let fly an arrow. The bird fell quivering among the bushes. Tally-yang-sang was no less pious than philosophical, and this feat surprised him exceedingly. With curiosity depicted in his countenance, he walked forward to where the bird had fallen.
“A little farther,” said Yoo-ti-hu.
“Here?”
“Still farther.”