Thus resentful and absent-minded, he once walked up and down the garden. And would you believe it? there flies down to him from a high tree a beautiful white dove, and alights upon his hand, and looks with sorrowful eyes into his sorrowful and indignant ones. “Ach! my little dove! why art thou so gloomy? Has thy mate grown ugly and repulsive to thee as my fair queen to me?” murmured the young king as he stroked her fondly over the head and neck. Only he detects on her head a sort of lump, blows the feathers apart, and lo! there is the head of a pin. Stirred by pity the king draws out the pin; at that moment the beautiful mournful dove transforms itself into his beautiful wife. She related him everything, how it happened to her and what, how the gipsy had hocussed her and had thrust the pin into her head. The king immediately ordered the gipsy and the old grandmother to be seized and burnt without any sort of trial.
From that time nothing any more disturbed his happiness; neither the strength of his enemies nor the wickedness of malicious people; and so he lived with his beautiful queen in peace and love, and ruled happily, and is ruling still if he is not yet dead.
