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And the king read: "Brother, whom I love best of all men in the world save one, I have left you to go with that one. You will not forgive me now, but some day forgive me. Nay, it is not I who have done it, but my love which is braver than I. He is the sweetest gentleman alive, brother, and therefore he must be my lord. Let me go, but still love me Osra." "It is true," said the king.
But the paddock was strong, and, although Osra could run round and round it in a few minutes, he could neither jump nor fly over the fence. And so, in spite of his great strength, in spite of his huge body and wonderfully muscular legs, he could do nothing, for he could not fly. And so he had to suffer the punishment for the wrong-doing of his predecessors.
Osra, at this time, was a very important bird indeed, for he possessed six wives, and, as all these wives had been laying eggs lately, he had had a very busy time. For the wife of an ostrich considers if she lays the eggs that is all she can be expected to do. The males do all the hatching, even making the nest in preparation for the eggs.
Your teacher has come." "Yes, he has come," she said gently, looking on the bishop with great friendliness. "But tell me, will he always love me?" "Surely he will," answered the bishop. "And tell me," said Osra, "shall I always love him?" "Surely," said the bishop again, most courteously.
Here, having dismounted, and tied their horses to the gatepost, they stood an instant, and Osra again veiled her face. "Let me go alone, madam," he implored. "Give me your sword, and I will go alone," she answered. "Here, then, is the path," said the bishop; and he led the way by the moonlight that broke fitfully here and there through the trees.
But they had a good time afterwards, for Osra led them, with slow and stately steps, to a farm close by, where there were some nice, young broods of soft, fluffy chickens, and tiny, little yellow ducklings running about with their mothers.
And he offered to raise her, but she rose unaided, asking with choking voice: "Is she dead?" "She is dead," said the prince; and Osra, hearing it, covered her face with her hands, and blindly groped her way back to the chair, where she sat, panting and exhausted. "To her I have said farewell, and now, madam, to you.
Never, from that time to this, has any ostrich been able to fly. But even this has not entirely subdued their pride and arrogance, and their insufferable conceit. Osra, who was an African ostrich, had his full share of pride and conceit. He certainly was a very fine, full-grown male bird, and the beautiful, white, flowing feathers of his tail and wings were exceedingly handsome.
Neither Ludwig nor the bishop heard what she said, but they heard only that Osra sobbed. Presently the lady's arms relaxed a little in their hold, and Osra, having kissed her again, rose, and signed to Ludwig to come nearer; while she, turning, gave her hand to the bishop, and he led her from the room, and finding another room near, took her in there, where she sat silent and pale.
For surely it makes greatly for the increase of joy and entertainment in the world, and of courtesy and true tenderness, that the heart of Princess Osra or of what lady you may choose, sir, to call by her name should flutter in pretty hesitation here and there and to and fro a little, before it flies on a straight swift wing to its destined and desired home.
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