Now at this moment by Good Luck stood Dame Fortune. She likes handsome
young men, and there was some little jealousy between her and the
godfather so she smiled at the quarrel.

"You would rather have had me for your gossip?" said she.

"If you would give me three wishes, I would," replied the farmer
boldly, "and I would trouble you no more."

"Will you make him over to me?" said Dame Fortune to the godfather.

"If he wishes it," replied Good Luck. "But if he accepts your gifts he
has no further claim on me."

"Nor on me either," said the Dame. "Hark ye, young man, you mortals
are apt to make a hobble of your three wishes, and you may end with a
sausage at your nose, like your betters."

"I have thought of it too often," replied the farmer, "and I know what
I want. For my first wish I desire imperishable beauty."

"It is yours," said Dame Fortune, smiling as she looked at him.

"The face of a prince and the manners of a clown are poor partners,"
said the farmer. "My second wish is for suitable learning and courtly
manners, which cannot be gained at the plough-tail."

"You have them in perfection," said the Dame, as the young man thanked
her by a graceful bow.