was told. She stood by while the tailor was cutting out the gown, and she swept down all the biggest scraps, and stuffed them into her pockets; and when she was going away, the Prince said—
"We may as well see if this old girl has not been long-fingered this time too."
So he began to feel and search her pockets, and when he found the pieces he was in a rage, and began to stamp and scold at a great rate, while she wept and said—
"Ah, pray forgive me; the beggar bade me do it, and I couldn't help it."
"Well, you ought to smart for it," said Hacon; "but for the beggar's sake it shall be forgiven you."
So it went now just as it had gone before, and when she got back to the cabin, the beggar was there before her.
"Oh, Heaven help me," she said; "you will be the death of me at last by making me nothing but what is wicked. The Prince was in such a towering rage that he threatened me both with the constable and cage."
Some time after, Hacon came home to the cabin at even and said—
"Now, the Prince's will is, that you should go up to the palace and stand for the bride, old lass! for the bride is still sick, and keeps her bed; but he won't put off the wedding; and he says, you are so like her, that no one could tell one from the other; so to-morrow you must get ready to go to the palace."
"I think you've lost your wits, both the Prince and you," said she. "Do you think I look fit to stand in the bride's place? look at me! Can any beggar's trull look worse than I?"
