"And how long would it take to finish them all?" asked the giant.
"Oh! it would take three or four days more, for I've got all the seamstresses in the kingdom, and they work as hard as ever they can, and they can't do any more, unless they work at night, and you know I won't allow that."
"Certainly not," said Derido. "Poor things, it would kill them, sooner or later. I will tell you what I will do for a kind young lady like you. You say that the young King Gantalor is only anxious to have the wedding so soon because his peace is to commence in a day or two?"
"That's it," said Falema. "If this last war of his had continued a little longer, I should have been ready."
"Well now," said the giant, "this is what I will do: I will go to-morrow, and make war against him, and I'll fight him until your dresses are done."
"O, you dear, good giant!" cried Falema. "But you mustn't kill or wound him."
"I'll not hurt a hair of his head," said Derido. "But how shall I know when your dresses are done?"
"Oh! I will send you some of the pieces that are left," replied the Princess, "and then you may be sure that they are done; for as long as dresses are making, the pieces are always wanted for covering cord and for little gores, and such things."
"Certainly," said the giant, "and to shrivel up for trimmings."
"Shrivel up!" said the Princess, laughing, "you mean flute."
"Perhaps I do," said Derido. "But I must go now, and you must not forget to send me the pieces when all is ready."
So the Princess was put down, and she galloped away home with the good news, and that day she treated all her seamstresses to wine and cake, and a linsey-woolsey short-gown a piece.
