There lived once a king and queen who had an only daughter, a charming and beautiful girl, dearer to them than anything else in the world. When the princess was twelve years old the queen fell sick, and nothing that could be done for her was of any use. All the doctors in the kingdom did their best to cure her, but in spite of their efforts she grew worse and worse. As she was about to die, she sent for the king and said to him:

‘Promise me that whatever our daughter asks, you will do, no matter whether you wish to or not.’

The king at first hesitated, but as she added:

‘Unless you promise this I cannot die in peace,’ he at length did as she desired, and gave the promise, after which she became quite happy and died.

It happened that near the king’s palace lived a noble lady, whose little girl was of about the same age as the princess, and the two children were always together. After the queen’s death the princess begged that this lady should come to live with her in the palace. The king was not quite pleased with this arrangement, for he distrusted the lady; but the princess wished so much for it that he did not like to refuse.

‘I am lonely, father,’ she said, ‘and all the beautiful presents you give me cannot make up to me for the loss of my mother. If this lady comes to live here I shall almost feel as if the queen had come back to me.’

So a magnificent suite of rooms was prepared and set aside for the new-comers, and the little princess was wild with joy at the thought of having her friends so near her. The lady and her daughter arrived, and for a long time all went well. They were very kind to the motherless princess, and she almost began to forget how dull she had been before they came. Then, one day, as she and the other girl were playing together in the gardens of the palace, the lady came to them, dressed for a journey, and kissed the princess tenderly, saying:

‘Farewell, my child; my daughter and I must leave you and go far away.’

The poor princess began to cry bitterly. ‘Oh! you must not leave me!’ she sobbed. ‘What shall I do without you? Please, oh! please stay.’

The lady shook her head.

‘It almost breaks my heart to go, dear child,’ she said, ‘but, alas! it must be.’

‘Is there nothing that can keep you here?’ asked the princess.

‘Only one thing,’ answered the lady, ‘and as that is impossible, we will not speak of it.’

‘Nothing is impossible,’ persisted the princess. ‘Tell me what it is, and it shall be done.’

So at last her friend told her.

‘If the king, your father, would make me his queen I would stay,’ she said; ‘but that he would never do.’

‘Oh, yes! that is easy enough!’ cried the princess, delighted to think that, after all, they need not be parted. And she ran off to find her father, and beg him to marry the lady at once. He had done everything she asked, and she was quite certain he would do it.

‘What is it, my daughter?’ he asked, when he saw her. ‘You have been crying — are you not happy?’

‘Father,’ she said, ‘I have come to ask you to marry the countess’—(for that was the lady’s real title)—‘if you do not she will leave us, and then I shall be as lonely as before. You have never refused me what I have asked before, do not refuse me now.’

The king turned quite pale when he heard this. He did not like the countess, and so, of course, he did not wish to marry her; besides, he still loved his dead wife.

‘No, that I cannot do, my child,’ he said at last.

At these words the princess began to cry once more, and the tears ran down her cheeks so fast, and she sobbed so bitterly, that her father felt quite miserable too. He remembered the promise he had given always to do what his daughter asked him and in the end he gave way, and promised to marry the countess. The princess at once was all smiles, and ran away to tell the good news.

Soon after, the wedding was celebrated with great festivities, and the countess became queen; but, in spite of all the joy and merriment that filled the palace, the king looked pale and sad, for he was certain that ill would come of the marriage. Sure enough, in a very short time the queen’s manner towards the princess began to change. She was jealous of her because she, instead of her own daughter, was heir to the throne, and very soon she could no longer hide her thoughts. Instead of speaking kindly and lovingly as before, her words became rough and cruel, and once or twice she even slapped the princess’s face.

The king was very unhappy at seeing his dearly loved daughter suffer, and at last she became so wretched that he could no longer bear it. Calling her to him one day he said:

‘My daughter, you are no longer merry as you should be, and I fear that it is the fault of your step-mother. It will be better for you to live with her no longer; therefore I have built you a castle on the island in the lake, and that is to be your home in future. There you can do just as you like, and your step-mother will never enter it.’

The princess was delighted to hear this, and still more pleased when she saw the castle, which was full of beautiful things, and had a great number of windows looking out on the lovely blue water. There was a boat in which she might row herself about, and a garden where she could walk whenever she wished without fear of meeting the unkind queen; and the king promised to visit her every day.

For a long time she dwelt in peace, and grew more and more beautiful every day. Everyone who saw her said ‘The princess is the loveliest lady in the land.’ And this was told to the queen, who hated her step-daughter still more because her own daughter was ugly and stupid.

One day it was announced that a great meeting of knights and nobles was to be held in a neighbouring kingdom distant about two days’ journey. There were to be all kinds of festivities, and a tournament was to be fought and a banquet held, in honour of the coming of age of the prince of the country.

The princess’s father was amongst those invited, but before he set out he went to take leave of his daughter. Although she had such a beautiful home, and was no longer scolded by the queen, the poor princess was dreadfully lonely, and she told her father that it would be better if she were dead. He did his best to comfort her and promised that he would soon return. Was there anything he could do to help her?

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You may greet the Green Knight from me.’

Now the king wondered a little at these words, for he had never heard of the Green Knight; but there was no time to ask questions, therefore he gave the promise, and rode off on his journey. When he came to the palace where the festivities were to take place, the first thing he did was to ask:

‘Can anyone tell me where I may find the Green Knight?’

No, they were very sorry; but none had ever heard of such a person either — certainly he was not to be found there. At this the king grew troubled, and not even the banquet or the tournament could make him feel happier. He inquired of everyone he saw, ‘Do you know the Green Knight?’ but the only answer he got was:

‘No, your majesty, we have never heard of him.’

At length he began to believe that the princess was mistaken, and that there was no such person; and he started on his homeward journey sorrowfully enough, for this was the first time for many months that the princess had asked him to do anything for her and he could not do it. He thought so much about it that he did not notice the direction his horse was taking, and presently he found himself in the midst of a dense forest where he had never been before. He rode on and on, looking for the path, but as the sun began to set he realised that he was lost. At last, to his delight, he saw a man driving some pigs, and riding up to him, he said:

‘I have lost my way. Can you tell me where I am?’

‘You are in the Green Knight’s forest,’ answered the man, ‘and these are his pigs.’

At that the king’s heart grew light. ‘Where does the Green Knight live?’ he asked.

‘It is a very long way from here,’ said the swineherd; ‘but I will show you the path.’ So he went a little farther with the king and put him on the right road, and the king bade him farewell.

Presently he came to a second forest, and there he met another swineherd driving pigs.

‘Whose beasts are those, my man?’ he asked.

‘They are the Green Knight’s,’ said the man.

‘And where does he live?’ inquired the king.

‘Oh, not far from here,’ was the reply.

Then the king rode on, and about midday he reached a beautiful castle standing in the midst of the loveliest garden you can possibly imagine, where fountains played in marble basins, and peacocks walked on the smooth lawns. On the edge of a marble basin sat a young and handsome man, who was dressed from head to foot in a suit of green armour, and was feeding the goldfish which swam in the clear water.

‘This must be the Green Knight,’ thought the king; and going up to the young man he said courteously:

‘I have come, sir, to give you my daughter’s greeting. But I have wandered far, and lost my way in your forest.’

The knight looked at him for a moment as though puzzled.

‘I have never met either you or your daughter,’ he said at last; ‘but you are very welcome all the same.’ And he waved his hand towards the castle. However, the king took no notice, and told him that his daughter had sent a message to the Green Knight, and as he was the only Green Knight in the kingdom this message must be for him.

‘You must pass the night with me here,’ said the knight; and as the sun was already set, the king was thankful to accept the invitation. They sat down in the castle hall to a magnificent banquet, and although he had travelled much and visited many monarchs in their palaces, the king had never fared better than at the table of the Green Knight, whilst his host himself was so clever and agreeable, that he was delighted, and thought ‘what a charming son-in-law this knight would make!’

Next morning, when he was about to set forth on his journey home, the Green Knight put into his hand a jewelled casket, saying:

‘Will your highness graciously condescend to carry this gift to the princess, your daughter? It contains my portrait, that when I come she may know me; for I feel certain that she is the lady I have seen night after night in a dream, and I must win her for my bride.’

The king gave the knight his blessing, and promised to take the gift to his daughter. With that he set off, and ere long reached his own country.

The princess was awaiting him anxiously when he arrived, and ran to his arms in her joy at seeing her dear father again.

‘And di............