“The charm of these ladies has not escaped me,” said Cugel. “Unluckily I am bound by a vow of continence.”

“Unfortunate man!” exclaimed the Chief Elder. “The princesses of Smolod are nonpareil! And notice — yet another soliciting your attention!”

“Surely it is you she summons,” said Cugel, and the elder went to confer with the young woman in question, who had come riding into the plaza in a magnificent boat-shaped car which walked on six swan-feet. The princess reclined on a couch of pink down and was beautiful enough to make Cugel rue the fastidiousness of bis recollection, which projected every matted hair, mole, dangling underlip, sweating seam and wrinkle of the Smolod women to the front of his memory. This princess was indeed the essence of a daydream: slender and supple, with skin like still cream, a delicate nose, lucent brooding eyes, a mouth of delightful flexibility. Her expression intrigued Cugel, for it was more complex than that of the other princesses: pensive, yet willful; ardent yet dissatisfied.

Into the plaza came Bubach Angh, accoutered in military wise, with corselet, morion and sword. The Chief Elder went to speak to him; and now to Cugel's irritation the princess in the walking boat signaled to him.

He went forward, “Yes, princess; you saluted me, I believe?”

The princess nodded. “I speculate on your presence up here in these northern lands.” She spoke in a soft clear voice like music.

Cugel said, “I am here on a mission; I stay but a short while at Smolod, and then must continue east and south.”

“Indeed!” said the princess. “What is the nature of your mission?”

“To be candid, I was brought here by the malice of a magician. It was by no means a yearning of my own.”

The princess laughed softly. “I see few strangers. I long for new faces and new talk. Perhaps you will come to my palace and we will talk of magic and the strange circumstances which throng the dying earth.”

Cugel bowed stiffly. “Your offer is kind. But you must seek elsewhere; I am bound by a vow of continence. Control your displeasure, for it applies not only to you but to Udela Narshag yonder, to Zokoxa, and to Ilviu Lasmal.”

The princess raised her eyebrows, sank back on her down-covered couch. She smiled faintly. “Indeed, indeed. You are a harsh man, a stern relentless man, thus to refuse yourself to so many imploring women.”

“This is the case, and so it must be.” Cugel turned away to face the Chief Elder, who approached with Bubach Angh at his back.

“Sorry circumstances,” announced the Chief Elder in a troubled voice. “Bubach Angh speaks for the village of Grodz. He declares that no more victuals will be furnished until justice is done, and this they define as the surrender of your cusp to Bubach Angh, and your person to a punitive committee who waits in the parkland yonder.”

Cugel laughed uneasily. “What a distorted view! You assured them of course that we of Smolod would eat grass and destroy the cusps before agreeing to such detestable provisions?”