A hundred years passed. A prince- the world's most handsome prince- was hunting in a foreign country- for he was the world's best hunter- when he saw a tower in the middle of a great, thick wood, and stopped to ask what it was. Each person he asked had a different story- some said it was a ruinous old castle, haunted by spirits, others that it was where all sorcerers and witches met by night, but another countryman spoke to him, saying, "Your Royal Highness, it is fifty years since I heard this story from my father, who heard it from his father- there is a princess, sleeping there, and awaits the kiss of a prince to wake her. Tis said she was the most beautiful woman in the world, Sire."
The Prince was chivalrous and noble and believed that he could put an end to this rare adventure. He had already fallen in love with the Princess, although he had not seen her. He had barely advanced into the wood when all the trees gave way to let him pass through- he walked up to the castle, and he did not wonder that none followed him, for, blessed by his marvellous intellect, he knew that magic played a part in all this, and he did not cease from continuing his way, for a young and amorous prince is always valiant.
He was met by a maze of winding staircases and halls, but seemed to know each turn to make- he walked on, up the spiralling stairs- till he had reached the highest room in the tallest tower. Then he grasped his heart, took a breath, pushed open the door, and stepped in to meet his fate.
A four poster bed with hangings of velvet, embroidered with gold and silver lay by the window. The Prince felt a wave of love for the Princess, and closed his eyes, pushed the hangings away, leant over to kiss her, opened his eyes-
- and screamed and fainted.
For, alas, the fairy had foolishly forgotten to stop time with her spell, and the Princess had aged! She was no longer the most beautiful woman in the world- her rank was somewhere in the four hundred and fifties, and she looked as though she had spent four and twenty years pickling in the Dead Marshes!
Traumatised, the Prince came to himself and fled from the tower.
"I will never love again," he said. He returned to his castle, learned the art of diplomacy, and ruled many years in prosperity and wealth, but never did he marry, and never again did he harbour any chivalrous thoughts.