They amuse themselves thoroughly. The king has eyes for her alone. He asks her her name. She tells him, “Braf-le-mandoufle.” They feast themselves well, and some friends having called to him he goes to them, and the young lady escapes.
Ass’-skin goes to tell the queen that yesterday evening’s young lady had come, but still more beautiful—that she had escaped in the very middle of the ball. She goes off to her geese. The king comes to his house. His mother says to him:
“She came then, the young lady you love? but she only loves you so-so, since she has gone off in this fashion.”
“Ass’-skin.”
He goes off to her and gives her two kicks with his slipper, and says to her:
“Woe to you if you go there again; I will kill you on the very spot.”
She goes off to her geese, and the old woman comes to her again and tells her to ask permission again for this evening—that she must go to the dance. She gives her a peach, and tells her that she will have there all that is necessary to dress herself with. She goes then to ask her mistress if she will give her permission, like last night, to go to the ball. She says to her:
“Yes, yes, I will give you leave. But are you not afraid lest the king should catch you? He has said that he will kill you if you go there.”
“I am not afraid, because I am sure that he will not catch me. Yesterday he looked for me again, but he could not catch me.”