I made haste up stairs,
being so much the more full of sorrow and compassion that I had
been the cause of so great a misfortune; and that, by sacrificing
the fairest princess on earth to the barbarity of a most
merciless genie, I was become the most criminal and ungrateful of
mankind. It is true, said I, she has been a prisoner these
twenty-five years; but, setting liberty aside, she wanted nothing
that could make her happy. My madness has put an end to her
happiness, and brought upon her the cruelty of an unrelenting
devil. I let down the trap-door, covered it again with earth, and
returned to the city with a burden of wood, which I bound up
without knowing what I did, so great were my trouble and sorrow.
My landlord, the tailor, was very much rejoiced to see me. Your
absence, said he, has disquieted me very much, by reason you had
intrusted in with the secret of your birth, and I knew not what
to think. I was afraid that somebody had known you; God be
thanked for your return. I thanked him for his zeal and
affection, but never a word durst I say of what had passed, nor
the reason why I came back without my hatchet and cords.
I retired to my chamber, where I reproached myself a thousand
times for my excessive imprudence. Nothing, said I, could have
paralleled the princess's good fortune and mine, had I foreborn
to break the talisman.
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