Look here--" and he lifted the cloth from the girl's bosom, and showed her the deep red wound, "Look here--here is the first rose you laid on my grandchild's bosom, and the second--there it goes." The paraschites raised his arm to fling the flower through the door of his hut.

But Pentaur had approached him, and with a grasp of iron held the old man's hand.
"Stay," he cried in an eager tone, moderated however for the sake of the sick girl.

"The third rose, which this noble hand has offered you, your sick heart and silly head have not even perceived.

And yet you must know it if only from your need, your longing for it.

The fair blossom of pure benevolence is laid on your child's heart, and at your very feet, by this proud princess.