“No,” said the sun, “no white dove did I see, but here’s a little chest. Open it when you’re in great need.”
She thanked the sun and she kept walking until evening when the moon appeared. Then she asked the moon, “You shine the whole night long, and over all the fields and forests of the world. Did you not see a white dove flying by?”
“No,” said the moon, “no white dove did I see, but here’s an egg. Break it when you’re in great need.”
She thanked the moon and kept on walking until the Night Wind came blowing by, and she said, “You blow over all the trees and under every leaf. Did you not see a white dove flying by?”
“No,” said the Night Wind, “no white dove did I see, but I will ask the three other winds, perhaps they saw it.”
The East Wind and the West Wind blew by, but they hadn’t seen it. But the South Wind said, “Yes, I did see the white dove. It flew to the Red Sea, and there it turned into a lion again, since the seven years were up, and the lion is doing battle with a dragon, which is an enchanted princess.”
Then the Night Wind spoke to her: “I’ll give you a word of advice. Go to the Red Sea. On the right bank you’ll find stalks of cane growing. Count them and cut off the eleventh stalk, and with it strike the dragon, then the lion can subdue it, and both will get their human bodies back. After that look around, and you’ll find the griffin who sits on the Red Sea. Swing yourself with your beloved on his back, and he will fly you both home. Here, take this walnut, and when you’re midway across the water, let if fall, and a great big walnut tree will rise out of the deep, on which the griffin will rest, for if he could not rest he would not be strong enough to carry you across and if you forget to drop the nut he’ll shake you off into the Red Sea.”
She walked on and found everything just as the Night Wind said she would. She counted the stalks of cane growing by the sea and cut the eleventh stalk off, and with it struck the dragon, and the lion subdued it. At that very instant the two regained their human forms. But as soon as the princess who had previously been a dragon was freed from her spell, she took the young man in her arms, climbed onto the griffin, and flew off with him. Now the poor girl who had traveled far and wide was abandoned again and she sat down and wept. But finally she pulled herself together and said, “I will walk as far as the wind blows and as long as I can still hear the rooster crow until I find him.”
And she walked away, and kept walking a long, long way, until at last she came to the castle where the two of them, the dragon princess and her lion king, lived. She heard that there would soon be a festivity at which the two were to be wed. Whereupon she said, “God will still help me,” and took out the little chest that the sun had given her, and in it there was a dress as radiant as the sun itself.
So she took it out and put it on and went into the castle, and everyone, including the bride, was struck by her appearance. The bride took such a fancy to it that she thought it would make a wonderful wedding gown, and asked if it might not be for sale.
“Not for gold or goods,” the girl replied, “but for flesh and blood.”
The bride asked her what she meant by that.
The girl said, “Let me spend a night in the chamber where the bridegroom sleeps.”
The bride was reluctant at first, but she so badly wanted the dress that she finally gave in, under the condition that the valet give the prince a sleeping potion.
When night fell and the prince already lay asleep, the girl was led into the chamber. She sat on the edge of the bed and said, “I followed you for seven long years, went to the sun, the moon, and the four winds to ask after you, and I helped you subdue the dragon. Pray tell me, my prince, how then can you forget me?”
But the prince slept so soundly that it only seemed to him as if what he heard were the wind wafting outside in the evergreens. At daybreak she was led out of the chamber and had to hand over her golden dress. Fathoming that it was all for naught, she was sad, went outside, sat on a lawn, and wept. But as she sat there she remembered that she still had the egg the moon had given her. She cracked it open and out came a golden clucking hen with twelve little golden chicks that ran around and peeped and crept back under their mother’s wings, and there was no lovelier sight in this world. Then she stood up and drove them along the lawn until the bride looked out her window and was so taken by the little golden chicks that she came running out and asked if they might not be for sale.
“Not for gold and goods, but for flesh and blood. Let me spend another night in the bedchamber of the sleeping prince.”