Once upon a time, there was a poor Prince. He possessed a small kingdom, large enough to marry upon, and married he wished to be. It was audacious of him to ask the Emperor's daughter, 'Will you marry me?' but his fame was widespread. Many princesses would have agreed, but would she?
On his father's grave grew a rose-tree that bloomed only every five years, bearing a single rose of such sweet scent it made one forget all cares. He also owned a nightingale whose song contained all the world's beautiful melodies. These gifts were sent to the Princess in silver caskets.
In the great hall, the Princess was playing when she saw the caskets. 'If only it were a little pussy cat!' she exclaimed. The rose was revealed. The ladies-in-waiting admired its prettiness, and the Emperor found it charming. But the Princess touched it and nearly cried, 'Ugh! Papa, it is REAL!'
The nightingale was then presented and sang so beautifully that no one could criticize it. The ladies-in-waiting exclaimed in French, and an old courtier was reminded of the late Empress's musical snuff-box. The Emperor wept. 'I hope this, at least, is not real?' asked the Princess. Told it was, she ordered, 'Then let the bird fly away,' and refused to see the Prince.
Undeterred, the Prince disguised himself, applied to the castle for work, and was appointed Imperial Swineherd. In his wretched room near the pigsties, he crafted a little pot. When it boiled, little bells around it jingled and played the tune, 'Where is Augustus dear? Alas! he's not here.' Moreover, by holding a finger in its steam, one could smell what was cooking at any fireplace in town.
The Princess, passing by, heard the tune—the only one she could play—and was delighted. She sent a lady-in-waiting to ask its price. 'Ten kisses from the Princess,' demanded the Swineherd. After initial refusal and negotiation, the Princess, hidden behind her ladies, paid the price and obtained the pot.
She and her court reveled in knowing everyone's dinner menus. Later, the Swineherd made a rattle that played every known dance tune. The Princess, enchanted, wanted it but refused to kiss him again. He demanded one hundred kisses. After much persuasion, the Princess agreed to give ten herself, with the rest from her ladies.
As the Swineherd was taking his eighty-sixth kiss, the Emperor, investigating the commotion, discovered them and, in a rage, drove both the Princess and the Swineherd out of the empire.
Standing in the rain, the Princess wept for her misfortune. The Swineherd then revealed himself as the Prince, having washed off his disguise. 'I despise you!' he declared. 'You rejected a noble Prince and his true gifts but kissed a Swineherd for toys.' He entered his kingdom and shut the door in her face, leaving her outside to sing, 'Where's my Augustus dear? Alas! he's not here.'