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 In this transformation he flew as fast as possible towards his capital of Mousel. He had a great curiosity to learn in what way the treacherous Dervise was proceeding, as well as once more to behold his dearly beloved mother. He took his station, therefore, upon a tree directly opposite to the queen’s chamber, over which it cast a cool delicious shade. Here he poured his sweetest song; but so mournful withal were the strains he poured, that the princess sat enchanted for hours at her window listening to him. But it sadly grieved him to think that she had not the least suspicion of the cause, and that so far from feeling any degree of compassion, she only amused herself along with her slaves, in praising the compass of his notes. Still he ceased not, both morn and eye, to pour his tender song, until the queen on the approach of a colder season, fearful lest she might lose her little musical guest, gave orders to have him, if possible, secured.

The transformed monarch heard the whole of this from his perch on the bough, and when the Queen’s bird-catcher appeared, to secure him by some sleight of hand, he sat quite still and quietly permitted him to take him. For the unhappy king wished for nothing so much as to avail himself of this occasion to approach nearer his affectionate mother. So the bird-catcher, then, presented him to the Queen con-